Call Me Crazy, Call Me Yours
by bs13
Summary: Darcy and Loki have never had a regular relationship, but that doesn't mean they're not going to go through the same things every couple does. From letters A to Z, here is a series of related oneshots following their relationship and all its ups and downs.
1. A is for Asinine

**So I recently watched Thor and became utterly hooked on this couple as a result of much better fanfictions out there that were just amazing. I wrote this just today and while it's not very good, I tried my best; however, I cannot do Loki's character justice. I want to continue this as a series and hopefully find better prompts and improve with characterization. The first letter is A, as always, and this word just fit so well I had to use it! :D**

Asinine (adjective): extremely stupid or foolish.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor or any of its affiliates.**

* * *

Dealing with heat has never been Loki's forte.

Coming from the origins that he did, it really wasn't such a surprise. However, even though his origins were known by the woman with him today, that did not mean she ever truly took it into consideration, ignoring the fact in her haste to take Loki someplace her own childish amusement: the beach.

Which, in Loki's opinion, was a very asinine thing of her to do.

Upon the arrival, Loki was immediately disgusted. He still is, in fact, as he helps take down a few objects of no importance from the strange metal contraption that is very behind in its time. From where the metal contraption is, he can see dirt and waves of brown and blue shimmering under the burning waves of ultra radiation that the pathetic mortals call _sunshine_.

"Hey, don't drop anything!"

Loki turns his attention the woman with him now, who is currently taking off her glasses and putting on larger ones that are tinted slightly and look, quite frankly, ridiculous.

"Darcy, why did you bring me here?" he demands.

She ignores his question and instead plucks a single object from his hands: her iPod. Putting strange tubes in her ears and clicking away on her iPod, she then takes out two towels and starts to walk towards the infested-looking waters.

Loki, alarmed by the notion, follows.

"You did not answer my question," he hisses as he catches up, gingerly trying not to let any of the dirt get on his feet, though he finds he is surprised by the way it shifts and sticks so much. Damn those weird shoes Darcy made him wear...

"It's the _beach_, stupid," says Darcy finally. "You don't need a reason to come."

Loki frowns; he doesn't appreciate the way she calls him such names.

"Well, I despise the place," Loki snarls. "Look at these foolish mortals, all of them half-dressed and lying about on dirt, letting their children run to their polluted deaths. It's really hard to grasp the concept that this place has not been invaded successfully."

"Yeah, well, the last time you tried, you didn't come to the beach," offers Darcy unhelpfully. "Maybe that should be your next try to take over my world, babe! It'd certainly be funny."

Loki's lips curl in indignation. "Do not mock me," he says.

"Hey, I'm not! I'm all for it, really, considering I'd get to be like your evil queen or something. Or I could at least get free stuff out of people who are scared of you. Ooh, and maybe I could finally get back at all the rubbish ex-boyfriends who broke up with me," Darcy says, tucking her arm into Loki's as Loki arranges all objects he carries in one arm.

"I already took care of that one," mutters Loki to himself, but Darcy hears him and grins, squeezing his arm tighter as they continue to walk through the sand.

"Aw, you are such a softie," coos Darcy, and then she pauses. "Well, as much as a softie as a guy who must've scared the shit out of several guys. Hey, did anyone of them pee their pants? I would've paid to see that."

Loki, despite being annoyed at just how asinine Darcy's comments (and thought process) could be, finds that he starts to smile just a little at how strange Darcy Lewis is, and how he finds it most endearing.

"Ooh! Look! Seagulls!" comes Darcy's next asinine comment, for when Loki looks, all he sees are unremarkably stupid white birds who flock about trying to eat anything that seems out of place. "Wow, this place is just so beautiful today."

Loki gives her a look- because can't she _see_ the horrible place around her?- and finds himself being wisked through more of that sticky, suspicious dirt, to a spot just among said dirt, where Darcy throws down an object from Loki's arms: a large blanket. She then proceeds to set up a giant umbrella over it, as well as lay out a few things over it.

"What in the name of Asgard are you doing?" Loki finally asks.

Darcy looks at him as though he's the asinine one, not her. "Setting up our spot," she says. "_Duh_." She then proceeds to hurriedly start to take her top off, which makes Loki's senses snap to attention.

"_Now_ what are you doing?" he says.

"Um, getting out of these clothes?" Darcy offers. "Aw, shit, I'm stuck. Mind helping me?" She turns and angles her body towards him, gesturing stiffly to the way her blouse has been caught on her chest.

Loki stiffens; the heat is sweltering, but now he feels as though his body is on fire. "Why do you need to disrobe in a place like _this_?" he asks, looking once more at the disgusting scene.

"I have my bathing suit under here, genius," deadpans Darcy, complete with an eye roll. Loki frowns, clearly recognizing her use of sarcasm and once again not appreciating it. "Besides," Darcy adds, "you have to do that, too."

Loki now realizes why the mortals are all half-dressed, and he frowns once more at just how asinine these mortals are; perhaps he _should_ try to take over their world once more, seeing how they are obviosuly unfit with the ruler they have now.

"I will do no such thing," he says coldly.

"Yeah, we'll see," Darcy replies. "Just get this shirt off me now, will you?"

Loki grips the shirt as she desires and yanks it off, mumbling of how foolish this is. Darcy removes the long skirt she had been wearing, and Loki is startled to see she's in what appears to just be her underclothes. Once again, against the heat, he's burning and he does not like the sensation.

"What are you wearing?"

"Er, it's a bikini," Darcy says, suddenly looking self-conscious.

"What does that mean?"

"It's just a bathing suit, alright?" Darcy says. "Now come on, take your shirt off! Did you even bring shorts? I don't think you brought shorts. Good thing I brought you a pair..."

Loki has stopped listening after _take your shirt off_. "I beg your pardon, what?"

Darcy ignores him once more and digs through a bag she's brought, pulling out a horrific red, white, and blue piece of clothing that not only makes Loki horrified, but angry. Darcy seems to pick up on this by the way her cheeks flare.

"Uh, so, they're Steve's," she offers awkwardly.

Loki glares. "I can see that."

"Don't get batshit jealous, okay? He let me take them for you."

"I am not _jealous_," spits Loki (though he is). "I simply refuse to ever wear such a thing out where mortals are. He is one of my enemies, and I will never surrender to his influence!"

"Loki, it's a freakin' pair of shorts."

"_His_ shorts. I wil not wear them," he says, standing his ground.

Darcy sighs. "Fine, then, how are you going to get in the water? Wearing all of your clothes? Because while I've done that once, I promise you won't enjoy yourself very much that way."

"Get in _what_ water? All I see is filth!" exclaims Loki. That has to be the most asinine thing she's said all day; that, and the fact she insists he won't enjoy himself very much, seeing how he might as well be in Hel right now and enjoying himself was never going to be an option.

"Dude, you've seriously killed people. I think that water is the least of your troubles."

Loki frowns. "I will not succumb to your asinine ideas," he informs her matter-of-factly. "And, for that matter, I will be removing no articles of my clothing. It is bad enough you have made me come as I am." He gestures, then, to the T-shirt and jeans he is wearing, along with the devilish sandals.

Darcy crosses her arms. "Loki. I told you we were going to have fun today, remember? And how are you going to do that when you're just standing here, pouting like a big baby?"

"I am not-"

"Loki," she cuts him off now. "Shirt off. Now."

"I will not-"

"_Loki_." Darcy gives him her most annoyed face (though Loki cannot take her seriously in those oversized glasses), and keeps her arms crossed. "You asked me to be your girlfriend, remember?"

"I believe I blackmailed you, but yes, I suppose I did."

"Whatever. And you promised me you'd do couple-y stuff with me, just like Jane and Thor do, remember?" Darcy prompts, making Loki frown at the mention of his brother and the mortal scientist.

"Perhaps."

"Then take off your shirt, because I have my taser with me and I will not hesitate to bring you down and take it off myself," Darcy says seriously, though Loki sees a twinkle in her eye that he suspects she has picked up from spending so much time with him.

The idea brings a ghost of a smile to Loki's lips. "You're threatening me?" he says, laughing just the slightest as he saunters closer to his mortal girlfriend, delight twinkling in his green eyes. "Well, darling, I'm certainly surprised."

"Whatever. Are you going to or not?" Darcy asks.

"Alright, if it means so much to you, I will shed my shirt," Loki says begrudgingly, and then he adds, "But I will _never_ wear that abomination." This he says while gesturing to Steve's patriotic shorts, which admittedly makes Darcy grin.

"Well, Steve's hot," Darcy says- and Loki gives her a horrified look- but then she adds, "But I think you wearing his shorts are a little to much for me; I like my men tall, pale, and with a hatred for America, not buff and blond with a little too much patriotic spirit."

Once again, Loki finds she's made another asinine comment- _I might have to start keeping count_, he thinks to himself- but he doesn't tell her so, and instead he settles to removing his shirt as she had requested, though inwardly cursing mortal customs.

"Are you satisfied?" he grumbles once he's done.

"Oh, _very_," says a grinning Darcy, and he frowns (and also flushes) as she removes her giant glasses and lets her eyes rake his body; she's always been too fond of admiring the form of men, and it's another thing he finds asinine.

"Now, what else?" asks Loki, directing her eyes away from his chest, and not daring to sneak a glance at _her_ chest, because he doesn't want her to feel as though she is in control of him and can easily bewitch him in such manner (though the latter is probably true).

"We go swim," Darcy says like it's obvious. "Come on, let's go."

"In the filth?"

Darcy sighs. "Yes, Loki, in the filth. And also, are you going to keep your jeans on? It'd probably be better if, y'know, you went in your underwear or something..."

Loki frowns, because he knows the game she's playing, and she is _not_ going to get him to succumb any further. "No," he says. "I will wear these into the filth."

"Damn, I was totally hoping you would," says Darcy, and her grin is so wide Loki finds it hard to resist her (and her revealing outfit). "But, whatever, let's just get in. Race you!"

She then takes off in a run, leaving a confused Loki in her wake.

"Raise me where?" he calls after her, and he can hear her laugh echo from where he stands. Carefully, he gingerly removes the strange shoes from his feet and starts to go after her, finding the shifting dirt just as hard to maneuver with bare feet, and a lot more painful; the heat has warmed the sand to the point that it feels as though his skin is burning.

Darcy waves him over to where she is. Unfortunately, the place is currently ankle-deep in the filth that she says is water. She appears quite happy for a reason Loki does not share- he suspects it another asinine one- but he does not dwell on that, either, and rather muddles through the filth to join her against his better judgment.

She expresses contempt at seeing him there, and she happily takes his hand and intertwines her fingers with his, looking out over the filth she still must call water and the way it comes as giant waves of brown-and-blue muck towards them.

"Thank you for coming," she says softly.

Loki doesn't answer; rather, he looks down at her face, and she looks up at him, smiling in a gentle way that he's only known Darcy to be in special moments. He refrains from smiling back, but he does smirk and say, "I did promise we would have our moments, did I not?"

"Okay, so you did," says Darcy slowly. "But, I'm afraid that while this is a moment for us, there's one thing we need to do." Her eyes gleam with the one thing Loki has always known to see: mischief.

"And that would be?" he prompts.

"A water fight!"

And that is how Loki is then sprayed with a handful of water Darcy has scooped with her hands, the cold water trickling down his face and down his chest. Surprisingly, Loki finds the cold welcoming, despite the fact he is now dirtied with the filth of these mortals.

"It appears you've said the word fight," he says calmly. "Well, Darcy, you know I can never resist a challenge." Darcy grins at his words and begins to run, causing him to rush after her, all while resisting the urge to use magic before the eyes of prying mortals.

Loki still doesn't like heat.

But dragging Darcy down despite her shrieks of how "freakin' cold" the water is, he doesn't feel the heat at all; instead, all he feels is cold and his own inner heat, which is a fire that burns for the asinine woman who has made him question himself as he willingly complies with her asinine ideas.

Loki still does not appreciate how asinine Darcy may be.

But as her lips meet his, hers more wet and his more dry, his more cold despite her being more wet, he finds that spending a day with Darcy Lewis, no matter now asinine, is one he will always enjoy.

* * *

**If you have any suggestions for letter B, please add them in a review or PM!**

**Also, thank you for reading!**


	2. B is for Baby

**So I was first going to use the word "bewitch" but my iPad deleted the whole finished chapter so I got mad and just change the word to this one, which I personally find more fun and way cuter!**

Baby (noun): a very young child, especially one newly or recently born.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

"LOKI, YOU BETTER GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Darcy, fuming, continues to walk about the room in silent anger, moving the baby in her arms in a (hopefully) calming manner. However, her yell at Loki only ruined the calm as the baby (who had been fussing) begins to full-out _wail_.

"Come _on_, kid, I'm trying," groans Darcy, but for the kid of an usually collected woman and a sweet but sort of oblivious God, the child shows no sympathy and keeps screaming his head off. "Please, please, stop crying? I promise I'll get you a bottle or something, but- LOKI! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE ALREADY! I SWEAR, I WILL GET OUT MY TASER!"

A reluctant shuffle of feet sounds, and Darcy realizes that Loki is now barely coming into the room, albeit a lot more more slowly and unsurely than his usual confident, prideful stride.

"Is he calmed?" comes the tentative question.

Darcy blows sweaty strands of hair out of her face, rolling her eyes at how the guy can be a God and still ask such a stupid question. "What do you think?" she grumbles over the baby's relentless wails.

Loki finally enters the living room, looking less confident than usual.

"About time," Darcy huffs, and when Loki slowly walks over to her, she shoves the crying chid into her boyfriend's arms. "Here, take _your_ nephew. And I'm emphasizing the _your_ because Thor asked _you_ to put yourself through hell watching his kid, not me!"

Loki begrudgingly arranges the child in his arms, looking at the ever-crying baby in silent wonder. With a slow hand, he reaches out and strokes the baby's soft hair, and then the skin of his cheek, never once tearing his eyes away from the child.

"He is rather small," says Loki stiffly.

"Gee, I never would've noticed, thanks," Darcy says, letting the sarcasm drip from her words. "Now try to calm him down, would you? I think he's hungry, so I'm going to go make him a bottle."

Loki's eyes quickly tear away from the baby. "You are going to leave me?"

"Uh-huh. Now doesn't that sound familiar?" Darcy says, rolling her eyes.

"But, you cannot. How can I calm this creature?"

"Fucking hell, Loki, it's a _baby_. Don't they have these on Asgard?"

"I never have had to calm one before," Loki says, looking down at the crying baby and then at Darcy. "What if...I am not able to succeed with this task?"

"You'll be _fine_," says Darcy exasperatedly. "Geez, and you were the one raised by royalty. I'll be right in the kitchen, okay? Just don't kill the kid, and we'll be golden."

"K-kill?"

Darcy ignores his stammered worry and heads into the kitchen, silently cursing herself for agreeing to help Loki, silently cursing Thor for having a date night with Jane, silently cursing Jane for ever giving birth and _keeping_ the crying terror in the living room.

"Hey, Loki, does the baby like warmed milk?" calls Darcy as she finishes mixing the formula and whatnot that the baby needs, attaching its top with finality and then eyeing the microwave.

"I...do not know," is Loki's unhelpful reply.

Darcy rolls her eyes. Cold milk it is.

"Whatever. Just sit down with him on the couch," she says, entering the room again.

Loki looks at her in almost...panic. "You want me to feed him?"

"Uh, yeah?" Darcy says, and she holds out the bottle.

"I do not know if I should." That's all Loki offers.

Darcy sighs. "Fine, give me the little guy," she says, and she sets down the bottle, taking the tearful baby carefully and smiling at his teary eyes. "Aw, don't cry, kid. We've got your bottle! Loki, give me his bottle."

Loki obeys her wordlessly.

Darcy sticks the bottle into the baby's mouth and is awarded with sweet, silent bliss. Sighing to herself, she looks down at the tear-streaked face of the baby boy and finds that when he's not crying, he's a whole lot cuter.

"He is calmed now," notes Loki slowly.

"Uh-huh."

"So you have expertise in these matters?" asks Loki.

"Nah, but babies are like that, y'know? One minute they're crying over nothing and the next they're just sitting there happily or sleeping. Mostly the second one. But hey, he's the son of the God of Thunder; he probably cries a lot more than usual," Darcy jokes.

Loki doesn't even crack a smile at that one. Or take the opportunity to make a comment about Thor. Which is something he _never_ does. (The second one, not the first. He already doesn't laugh at many of Darcy's jokes. Or any of them, really).

Instead, he gingerly sits down next to Darcy and peers over her shoulder at the baby, who sucks the bottle with a rigorous vigor and watches Darcy with wide blue eyes.

Darcy doesn't look over at Loki, but she can feel that something is bugging him; he's brooding a lot more than usual, and not to mention, he's not nearly as confident as he usually is.

"And are you fond of children?" asks Loki quietly.

Darcy thinks about it. Is she? She's an only child, but she knows how to deal with babies, having done her fair share of babysitting in her teenage years. But actually _liking_ kids is another story, because in high school all she would see them as were money. Now, looking at something Thor and Jane created, it's something else.

"I dunno," Darcy says carefully. "Never thought about it."

Loki is quiet for too long before he asks, "Would you ever have children?"

Darcy has to think about that. Had he asked her a question like that a year ago, she would've laughed at that and shot the idea away with a sarcastic and witty comment on her part before he'd even get the question out. But looking at this kid, so calm and sweet (well, _now_), she doesn't know what to think anymore.

"Maybe," she says, finally. "What about you?"

"I believe I lack certain parts that would allow that."

"No, dummy, would you _want_ to have a kid? You know, considering you wouldn't be the one to give birth to it," Darcy adds hastily, and she allows herself to shift slightly to look at him, yet making sure the baby is safely secured in her arms.

His face betrays many conflicting emotions, which Darcy has hardly known Loki to allow; he's too proud to appear weak, and he always portrays himself the ever-confident one.

"Perhaps," answers Loki softly.

Darcy almost doesn't want to look at him. Delicate situations should be treated delicately and all that, but fuck that; she's Darcy Lewis, and she's never avoided any sort of delicate situations. Often much to Jane's chagrin, but still.

Darcy looks at him.

"Well, this is awkward," says Darcy finally when she sees the way he's almost, well, _avoiding_ her eyes. Loki has never done that, either; he believes looking someone in the eye delivers a message about his character (and by character he means he needs to let everyone know he's in charge).

"I believe it is, yes," Loki mutters.

Darcy leans over to look at him. "Wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

Loki finally meets her eyes. "Nothing is upsetting me."

"Yup, that's why I said _bothering_. Now c'mon, spill."

Loki sighs, but when he looks at Darcy, she sees him smile. Finally, he shakes his head and says in mock wonder, "You are often too interrogative for your own good, Darcy Lewis."

"One of the things you love about me," replies Darcy smugly. "So talk."

"I believe, in the way we both said we might want children someday, we crossed a line," admits Loki. "One that should not have been crossed. You know already that I am Jötun-"

"Yeah, you turn all freaky and blue."

"...Right. Well, in the line we crossed, I believe we adumbrated the idea of having children _together_." Loki pauses, and he meets Darcy's eye and then looks at his nephew in her arms before he continues, "You should know that the chance of that happening is slim."

Darcy, being herself, has to throw herself into the fire.

"Why?" she asks. "Not that I've been, er, planning this or anything, but-"

"Your body is not suited for carrying a Jötun child," interrupts Loki. "You most likely would not be able to carry the child full term, and chances are, the child would kill you."

So Darcy ponders that. Of course she hadn't exactly set the idea of having a kid with Loki in stone (they've been together for, what, three years?), but to be honest, she'd thought about it. And would've liked it. Or at least had the option.

"Do say something," pleads Loki quietly. "I must know what you are thinking."

Darcy slowly draws the baby tighter in her arms and removes the bottle; the child has finished. Gently shifting the baby to her shoulder, she stands up to burp him. The child gurgles something, and Darcy smiles at him.

"Do you think he's sleepy?" Darcy asks Loki.

Loki is caught off guard. "I...would not know."

"Listen to your uncle," Darcy hums to the child, lifting him up and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Unhelpful as ever. But we love him anyway, don't we?" She looks at Loki. "With or without children."

Loki processes her words for a while, but he slowly stands up. Watching Darcy and his nephew silently for a few seconds, he finally smiles faintly. Walking up to the two of them, he gently tugs Darcy into his arms.

"You are strange, Darcy," says Loki softly.

"One of the things you love about me," Darcy says cheekily.

"Yes, one of the many," Loki agrees, and he reaches for her face, his thumb gently stroking the skin of her cheek as he meets her eyes. Darcy smiles at him in return. "Any other woman would have been upset. Why is it that you are not?"

Darcy groans at this. "Dude, we established I'm not normal," she reminds him. "So I'm not going to be 'any other woman'. Kids aren't a deal breaker for me. I just want _you_ in my life, stupid!"

"And I only desire you as well," Loki replies warmly.

Darcy's stomach pricks with anticipation at her next words (that she almost doesn't want to say), but does anyway. "Uh, so, kids aren't a deal breaker for you either?" she asks tentatively.

"No," Loki answers. "I would have liked some someday, but any future children with anyone other than you would not be desirable. You bring out the best in me, Darcy Lewis, and I would not change that for the world."

"You sure? Because you did try to take over the world once."

Loki can't help but to smile. "You are unimaginable."

"Can't argue with that one." Darcy grins back, just as the baby in her arms suddenly begins to fuss. "Oh! He must be sleepy. Want to rock him?" She offers the baby to her boyfriend, and Loki looks like he wants to say no, but he finally gives in and takes the child wordlessly.

Darcy smirks at the sight. Loki, looking worried, cradles the baby gently in his arms, all while making little movement, probably fearing any sudden movements as the baby continues to fuss.

"He looks like my brother," Loki says softly.

"Yup, that's how genetics work and all," Darcy notes, but Loki either doesn't hear or doesn't care to respond to the comment. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the baby in his arms.

"He is beautiful," Loki says softly. "I wish..." he trails off.

"Wish you could have one, huh?"

"I believe we established I do not have the appropriate parts."

"Ass," Darcy says, pretending to be offended, and she would shove him if he didn't have a baby in his arms right now. "But hey, if you really want a baby that bad, we can always take this one."

Loki chuckles at that. "I believe Jane would kill you if we did."

"Eh, you've got a point. Either that or dock my pay. The second one would be worse, though," Darcy says, and she peers over at the baby in Loki's arms and sees him asleep. "Aw, he's so cute when he's sleeping."

"He is the face of tranquility," Loki agrees.

"And to think he's the spawn of a hotheaded God and a confused woman," Darcy notes lovingly (and ignores Loki's pointed stare, knowing she's ruined the moment).

"So shall I set him in our bed?" Loki asks.

"Yeah." Darcy leans over and kisses the baby's forehead. "Night, kid. You're really cute, even though I know you're going to be waking me up all night long."

"Pardon?" Loki says, being hopeless with children.

"Or better yet, wake up your uncle," Darcy decides, and she stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Loki's cheek. "Thanks in advance, babe."

"For what, exactly?"

"You're in for a sleepless night. And not the good kind, either," Darcy says.

"What does that entail?"

"Well, he just ate and is going to sleep, so...how good are you with diapers?"

"W-what?"

"It's late, so I'm just going to crash on the couch. Call me if you need anything, 'kay?"

"B-but you cannot leave me to-"

"Love you! Byeeee!"

"B-but _Darcy_!"

* * *

**Wow. Thank you so much, everyone, for your support. Shoutout to my amazing reviewers:**

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**You guys are just the best. Thank you so much for reading; you are all amazing! (And of course, send in any ideas for the letter C!)**


	3. C is for Candle

**Hi everyone! Thanks for the support and suggestions!**

**C word credit to a conversation I had with _Florairmatylee_!**

Candle (noun): a cylinder or block of wax or tallow with a central wick that is lit to produce light as it burns.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

Tony Stark is a pathetic, lying mortal.

Or so Loki has come to conclude. Despite obviously harboring a fear of Loki himself (because everyone does), Stark has actually dared to lie to him. To _him_, the God of Lies! Had he not been chided by Darcy to "play nice" with the Avengers, Loki would have ended the pathetic being's life by now. Lying to a _God_? The man is, as Darcy puts it, "asking for it."

But all Loki can do now is stare at the objects Stark has given him without hope of ending the mortal's life, because despite his wishes, Loki has come to accept that he can no longer kill anyone who inconveniences him, even if the person's life is as useless as Stark's is. He also cannot dispose of the man solely because of the objects he was given, though he does resolve to never listen to the man again.

What was he thinking, to have taken Stark's advice in the first pace? Despite having this "Pepper" woman (who Darcy always jokingly refers to as Salt for some reason), Stark clearly does not have a way with woman as he had insisted earlier. Loki is disgusted to have gone to him for romantic advice now.

Because yes, he went to Tony Stark for romantic advice.

Loki has prided himself to have a romantic persona, but he has no clue about Midgardian affairs. He would not have gone to Stark at all had it not been for the event Jane informed him of: a one year anniversary of his relationship with Darcy. Loki did not care for years; for someone of his being, he had countless waiting for him. Jane, however, insisted it would be a big deal for Darcy and told him to do something.

It would be a chilly day in Hel before he'd listen to the orders of Thor's woman, but Loki had to admit that the idea of doing such a thing for Darcy would actually please him very much.

That is what prompted Loki to turn to Stark for help, but he is now disappointed at the turnout. What Stark insists are romantic "mood setters" are merely hunks of wax. Candles are not a foreign concept for him, as Loki has seen them on Asgard, but these are different. These are more neatly shaped and of weird color, and alas, Loki also does not know how to light them.

Had it been for any other woman, Loki would have used the illusion of magic to "set the mood" as Stark said candles did, but this is for Darcy. And, while he does not appreciate it, Darcy is from Midgard and would prefer Midgardian things, not illusions.

So that is why he is attempting to set the objects on fire so that they might burn. He has struck objects together, but no sparks have rained. He has tried to figure out how to work the hulking metal appliance in the kitchen that provides fire, but it will not turn on. He has even thought to contact Thor, knowing lightning to start fire, but he of course rejects the idea; he will not stoop to the level of asking his oaf of a brother for help.

He turns back to the metal appliance that provides fire. Because Loki shares an apartment with Darcy now that she trusts him (and Thor wished to move in with Jane), she is the one who works the machine, not he. However, he studies it with interest. Just how hard can it be?

Seizing a candle, he sets it in a metal round plate and sets that on the machine. Darcy sets everything she wishes to set on fire in these metal round plates, though oddly enough, she also often eats the scorched remains from them. But off the matter; Loki now studies the machine's panel of switches. They are round and have strange markings around them. Quickly, he slams his hand down on one of them.

Oh, of course that doesn't work. Slamming things are what his stupid brother does, and he is an idiot. It won't do for Loki to stoop to his level. Loki, priding himself on being the intellectual one, then realizes the panels are meant to be twisted. Proudly, he does so, and the fire beneath round plate begins to burn. Tossing the rest of the candles in, Loki then turns away from the machine.

Now that the mood has been set, what else did that pathetic Stark say to do? Ah, yes, he advised a good meal with wine. Going to the pantry, Loki takes down one of Darcy's stored bottles of wine (she has many) and resolves to take the oldest for this evening. As for a good meal, well, he is not much of a cook, but he does know how to work the machine Darcy uses for food now, so he might as well give it a try.

Taking another metal round plate, he takes out some of the strange cups of noodles Darcy lives off of (and makes him eat as well). He figures if she eats them so much she must like them, so he throws the cups into the metal round plate, sets them on the fire-summoning machine, and starts said machine.

Satisfied, Loki sits down on the couch now to finish reading a book he had started earlier. Darcy will be coming home soon, and she will be most pleased by the set mood, wine, and good meal awaiting her.

Suddenly a most unpleasant smell seems to hit all at once. Being accustomed to the smell of burning since he has moved in with Darcy, Loki recognizes that his "good meal" must almost be ruined. He hurries to the kitchen and is startled to see smoke rolling off in waves from both round plates. Unsure of what to do, he grasps the long handle of one of the plates and finds the cups of noodles have been scorched.

A beeping sound starts to screech. Annoying Midgardian objects. What in the name of Asgard could be so important that this alarm must be sounded?

Muttering to himself, Loki leaves the kitchen behind and tries to find the source of his annoyance. The mortals, despite being an inferior and most stupid race, still manage to show just how much more pathetic they are each and every day, and now Loki, none other than a _God_, is making a fool of himself as he tries to find the source of the annoying sound.

Perhaps this is a trick. Yes, that must be it.

"Show yourself!" demands Loki, but no one comes forward. Frowning, Loki tries again. "If this is what you call a trick, then I must inform you that it is a most foolish one! Now come out and show yourself!"

Nothing.

Well, nothing save for the sound of rustling-

Keys. Rustling keys. No one has keys for the apartment except for Darcy.

Sighing to himself, and quietly rubbing the bridge of his nose in defeat, Loki turns and waits by the door as Darcy unlocks it, enters the room, and has to do a double-take.

"Geez, what died in here?" is the first thing out of her mouth. "It smells all nasty in here, like burnt- oh, hey, forgot to even greet you and stuff." Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Darcy happily begins to settle down on the couch as she babbles the way she usually does.

Loki stares at her, unsure of what to say. Perhaps he ought to greet her as well and ask how her day went as he usually does, or perhaps he ought to acknowledge the date of today for her. Did Jane not insist today would be a big thing for Darcy?

Darcy looks up from where she's curling up on the couch, meeting his befuddled stare with a confused one of her own. "Hey, babe, you okay? You look kinda lost."

"Ah, no, I am fine," answers Loki hastily, deciding to just get the candles to set this mood as Stark said he should. "I merely forgot something in the kitchen that I must bring to you. I will get it and I shall return soon."

"Okaaay, but are ya _sure_ you're fine?"

"Of course."

Loki then proceeds to the kitchen, where he turns off the provider of fire and studies the disfigured candles in discontent. How _dare_ those insolent Midgardian objects do such a thing, and yet still not have been lit. How can he ever set any sort of mood when he does not even have candles?

"Loki, what are you doing?" sounds Darcy's voice.

Loki does not know how to reply. How can he ever explain himself without looking like a fool? Though Darcy often demonstrates she herself is a fool, a fool is something Loki most certainly is not.

"I am not doing anything that should worry you," Loki answers.

When she does not reply, Loki knows that is a bad sign. Before he can even hide the candles, however, Darcy then comes into the kitchen with her hands on her hips and a suspicious look on her face. Almost immediately, she places a hand over her nose.

"Ew, what did you sacrifice? Wait, no, if you really _did_ sacrifice something, then please don't tell me about it," says Darcy in her ever-so-charming manner.

"I...attempted dinner," Loki finally admits.

Darcy peers over at the provider of fire and says slowly, "I can see that. So, judging by those blackened remains, you tried to make Ramen. And here I thought you hated the stuff. But what's in the other pan? Are those..."

"Yes, they are candles."

Darcy looks at Loki slowly, and then back to the metal round dish she's called a pot, then back to him, then back to the dish, and then back again, and continues the cycle for a while.

"Y'know, it's a wonder you didn't burn the house down," says Darcy finally, and when Loki looks at her, he can see there is the ghost of a smile over her lips. "And to be honest, I thought _I'd_ be the one more likely to do it."

Loki smirks. "Believe me, I have thought that as well."

"Ass." Darcy punches his arm lightly, and then she peers back at the candles. "So not to be rude or anything, but do all your Assgird people usually try to cook _candles_?"

"...You mean Asgard."

"Same thing. But seriously, do you?"

"...No."

Darcy looks at him, the confusion heavily outlined on her face. "So you just decided to cook candles for fun?" she asks. "Or is this some sort of preparation for a future sacrifice? Because if that's the case, please find another apartment to sacrifice whatever it is; the last thing I need is the landlord demanding what died in my apartment again."

"Pardon..._again_?"

"Dude, don't get off topic. Just tell me what the heck you're doing," scolds Darcy.

Had it been a year earlier, Loki would never have allowed a mortal to speak to him in such a way, nor would he have ever considered to actually listen to said mortal. But today is not a year ago, and Loki knows he can either make a fool of himself and tell her what he was doing, or he can sleep on the couch for the next three years.

So finally, he admits, "I was attempting to light the candles."

It takes about two seconds for Darcy to erupt into laughter. Loki scowls at how amused she is at his discomfort, feeling he should not have to put up with such treatment when _he_ is the one doing something nice.

"Oh, that's _classic_," says Darcy after a few rugged spurts of laughter. "Trying to light candles by melting them? Man, whoever taught you back home must've had a screw loose."

Loki continues to scowl, not nearly as amused as she is. "I did not know candles were so weak," he explains defensively. "On Asgard, I never had to deal with such trivial matters such as how to light a candle. If I wanted the illusion of candlelight, I could obtain it through magic."

Darcy just keeps laughing. "But cooking them?"

"I said I did not know they were so weak!"

Darcy shakes her head now, smiling at him softly. "God, you're so stupid," she remarks fondly, and as Loki ponders what this means- stupid _is_ meant to be an insult, is it not?- Darcy continues, "What did you even need candles for if you can do your illusion stuff?"

"I thought you would appreciate Midgardian objects for a date such as this one," Loki answers. "Seeing how this date is exemplary to you, I thought you would like the effort."

"Date? As in today?"

"Yes...have we not been together for a year as of today? I believe, as mortals tend to say, our one-year anniversary?" Loki asks, almost suspiciously (if Jane lied to him...).

Darcy's eyes widen at the date, and her jaw goes slack. Before Loki can ask if she is alright, Darcy clamps a hand over her mouth and exclaims, "Aw, shit, I forgot!"

That stuns Loki. "You forgot?" he echoes, incredulous.

"I did! Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Darcy says apologetically. "I didn't- I mean, I lost track of dates and stuff- but I did remember once! By that I mean I was talking to Jane about it just last week, but..."

Loki stares at her, oblivious to her panic. "You forgot," he repeats.

"I- yeah, ultimately, I guess I did," admits Darcy. "But I really didn't think it'd be that big a deal! I mean, you did blackmail me into this relationship. I didn't think that counted as a real one year anniversary type thing, honestly. But if you do, then it so is! Um...can you say something now, please? Y'know, before I lose my sanity?"

Loki relents his dumbfounded stare. "You did forget," he mutters finally.

"Yeah."

Loki's face clearly displays sudden distaste as Darcy watches him carefully. "That means I did not have to attempt to light candles," he says in displeasure.

"...What?"

"You made Jane believe today was special," Loki accuses her. "I had to attempt to be romantic in a way I was not comfortable with! I could have been saving myself the time and energy spent in attempting to light a candle!"

"Wait, you only remembered because _Jane_ told you? And you're really upset that I forgot only because you had to light a _candle_?" Darcy's face showcases her own surprise.

"Of course! And I had to talk to that pathetic mortal Stark..."

"Whoa, Stark as in Tony Stark? As in Iron Man?! When I was young I had a huge crush on that guy!" Darcy exclaims, but one horrified look from Loki prompts her to add, "Not that I was young as in three years ago young. That would have been, um, weird..."

Loki, deciding to ignore the comment, asks, "Very well, it is clear that you think this day is unsuitable to be our anniversary date, and it is clear that I do not have to go through the trouble of lighting candles for today either. What shall we do now?"

"Hey now, shut up and let me think," Darcy interrupts. "I think this day would be an absolutely kick-ass day for our anniversary. I mean, it is technically the day I became your sort-of girlfriend, even if you did force me."

"But is this day not a joke to you?" asks Loki in surprise.

"Maybe once," Darcy agrees. "But now I'm dating a guy that I really like, despite the fact that he once threatened to kill me and take my iPod hostage, and if it's been one year since then, then it's our anniversary."

Loki finds himself smiling softly at the memory of the horrible first date and how he is now in a relationship with this maddening and insane woman. "Perhaps we ought to celebrate, then," he suggests.

"Definitely." Darcy, smiling, then leans over and takes Loki's sleeve, tugging him lower so he might be able to access her lips more easily. "And just for the record," she whispers over his lips, "I like your candle illusions much better than real ones."

* * *

**Thanks to my reviewers:**

**Guest**

**Winter Lover**

**DoubleDee068**

**Guest**

**Nolesr1**

**FloraIrmaTylee**

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**scarletwitch0**

**rachelisafallenangel**

**Keep sending in words, guys! The word for the letter "D" is currently...non-existent.**


	4. D is for Dance

**Credit to _scarletwitch0_ for this word/oneshot/whatnot!**

Dance (verb): move rhythmically to music, typically following a set sequence of steps.

**NOTE: I once noted these chapters as unrelated, but they really are. I will eventually capture the essence of many things hinted in oneshots (like the blckmail one everyone is curious about), throughout the tale of Loki and Darcy's relationship.**

**So disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

It is really all Jane's fault.

Since Darcy is supposed to be dating Loki (key word: _supposed_), Jane had the brilliant idea of a double date. Yes, Jane, how thoughtful of you; it isn't like Darcy has anything she wants to do today or anything. No, of course, she'd _love_ some time with the crazy psychopath who is her technical "boyfriend" now of two weeks since the disastrous first (_blackmail_-induced) date.

And honestly, what does Jane expect? That this night is going to go _well_? Of course it isn't! Thor doesn't understand Earth stuff, Loki hates everybody's guts, and Darcy...well, she just doesn't want to be there. So, of course, Jane should just accept that the whole night (and what happened) is all her _fault_, and no one else's, because Jane let something _very_ bad happen.

She took them to a dance club.

Hey, Darcy has always been partial to dance clubs (vodka shots and hot, sweaty boys), but this time, she knows the time here is doomed because of exhibits A and B. Exhibit A: Thor doesn't get what grinding is, and Jane has to explain it to him. Exhibit B: Loki is currently telling off the guys who had been staring at Darcy (complete with death threats and everything).

"-so look at her once more, you filthy mortals!" finishes Loki now, hissing through his teeth at the swaying guys who seem too drunk to have understood his tirade. He's a good distance away from Darcy and is currently moving away into the crowd, and yet Darcy can _still_ hear him. You'd think he'd be more subtle.

Darcy rolls her eyes and takes a long drink from her beer, cursing Jane in her head. Thanks to Mr. Don't-Look-At-The-Girlfriend-Whose-Life-I-Had-To-Threaten-To-Get-Her-To-Date-Me, she hasn't had a single guy approach her, and Jane has strictly told her no shots tonight. No shots! No guys are one thing, but Darcy needs vodka like a fish needs water. How can Jane be so cruel? The woman, of all people, understands Darcy's pain when it comes to Loki.

And speak of the devil, here comes Jane now.

"Hey, Darcy," says Jane apologetically as she stands close to the bar stool Darcy is seated on, the look on her face as apologetic as her words. "Um, are you having a good time?"

Darcy resists the urge to roll her eyes again. Of _course_ she's having a good time, Jane! She's been in a cramped, sweat-smelling place full of drunk guys and has had _no freaking vodka shots_ for an hour now, and don't forget that her freaky psychotic boyfriend is scaring guys away from her. Ah, isn't this date going so well?

"Can we please just leave already?" asks Darcy, pointedly ignoring Jane's question. "Thor keeps harassing women and asking them why they're dancing so near to each other, Loki keeps harassing any drunk guy whose eyes even wander ten feet in my direction, and I'm about to harass someone unless I get some vodka in my system."

Jane presses her lips into a thin line, still looking apologetic, but not relenting her decision for a double date. "I know, it's kind of a disaster right now-" she starts slowly.

"Disaster? That's an understatement. Relate this to the Titanic incident," Darcy retorts, "except the ship is my social life, and Loki is the iceberg that is fucking everything up."

Jane is quiet a few seconds before she says, "So this is about Loki."

Darcy nearly chokes on her beer. Of course it isn't about Loki. Darcy is just upset because she doesn't have vodka, not because she's now (technically) dating Loki and can no longer have a social life ever and can't have her usual routine of dancing with a guy and usually going home with him and- shit, it _is_ about Loki.

"Aw, fuck," Darcy groans, and she places a hand over her face as Jane watches sympathetically. "Yeah, I guess it is," she adds, and her face twists in disgust. "Ugh, it's like I'm _married_. Add that to my list of stuff not to do."

Jane takes a seat beside Darcy now. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I really didn't think this through, did I? You and Loki have been together for a while, and you're having withdrawals from being single...and from not having your life threatened unless you agreed to date Loki..."

Darcy takes a long gulp of beer. "Exactly," she agrees.

"And I forced you to come and acknowledge that you're _dating_ the guy. Oh, Darcy, I'm sorry," repeats Jane. "It's just that Thor was so excited, and I liked the idea too, and-"

"It's fine, Jane," Darcy interrupts. "I don't like it, but I can be cool about it."

Jane sighs. "Darcy, I know you're not keen on the idea of all this," she says knowingly. "But, when you think about it, this isn't a bad situation. You have a...boyfriend of sorts, and you're sober! Those two events _never_ happen when you're at a bar."

"Well the second could be easily remedied with some vodka, but-"

"_No_. You have to be sober. It's a _double_ date, and Thor would be crushed if you got drunk," Jane reprimands. "Just try to have some fun, okay? One that _doesn't_ involve alcohol." Here, she shoots a pointed look at Darcy's beer. "You can even dance with Loki or something."

Darcy sets down her beer carefully, pondering Jane's words. Dancing with the guy who tried to take over New York? The definition of the word "insane" needs a new definition that just says "Darcy Lewis," because Darcy decides that she's going to do it anyway; that's what boyfriends are for, right?

"Fine," agrees Darcy finally, "but if the guy doesn't dance with me and somehow manages to burn this place to the ground, remember, it's on you."

Jane smiles, relieved. "Great. I'll go find Thor now and be out of your hair."

"Tip: he's probably still asking random strangers what grinding is."

Jane winces. "I know," she says, sighing, before she stands and leaves.

Darcy looks down at her beer, considering leaving it, but she finally gives in and downs it (knowing she needs all the alcohol she can get) before standing up to find Loki. Unsurprisingly, she finds the elusive God in his natural habitat: yelling at people he believes are beneath him.

"Hey, E.T.," calls Darcy, tapping Loki's tense shoulder.

Loki whirls around to face her, mid-rant of whatever it is he was terrifying two young women with, his face one of unmistakable fury and his lips curled into an expression of disgust.

"What do you want, mortal?" he sneers.

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Dude, we gotta work on your people skills," she says, shaking her head slightly. "Firstly, you can't call me mortal if we're going to be dating or whatever. And secondly...I don't really _want_ anything with you, but if it's going to save people from hearing your boring-ass talking, then I need you to dance with me."

Loki's facial expression morphs into one of confusion. "Pardon?" he says.

"You, " says Darcy slowly, "need to dance with me."

Loki starts to scowl. "I will not."

Darcy hadn't expected the guy to exactly start moonwalking in agreement, but she also didn't expect a rebuttal. Is _he_ not the guy who wanted her to be a part of a relationship with her? He should know right now that if he's going to date her (at least for the time being, because Darcy is still trying to find a way to get out of it), Darcy is never going to let him refuse what she tells him to do.

"Yes, you will," Darcy says as Loki starts to turn away from her.

Loki is back around in a second. "I believe I made myself clear to you, mortal," he hisses, moving dangerously close to Darcy so his face is angled just above hers. "I will not repeat myself."

"Neither will I." Darcy crosses her arms and tries to look intimidatingly up at him, but it really doesn't help that he is so tall and she so short.

Loki doesn't falter in his stare, but his words are softer when he says, "I will not dance. Look at the way these mortals move. It is unbecoming and most distasteful.

"Yeah, well, guess what, asshole? I wasn't saying you had to dance like everybody else. I said you have to dance with _me_," says Darcy, now pissed off. "_You're_ the one that wanted this relationship, right?"

"Yes, but I believe I am regretting the decision."

Darcy ignores him and continues, "Then if we're in a relationship- no matter how freaking weird it is- we have to do stuff. Couple-y stuff, like Thor and Jane do. And dancing is something we have to do. Got that?"

Loki frowns. "I do not appreciate your tone," he says coldly.

"Get used to it, buddy," snarks Darcy in return. "Now c'mon, we're dancing."

Loki looks into the sea of young men and women grinding on each other, and his face slowly showcases his horror. "You desire that we dance as such?" he asks, gesturing to the scene.

Well, Darcy _would_- she's got this body, so she might as well flaunt it- but since she's dating (for now), it'd be inappropriate to do so (because she can't dance with single guys, and she is _not_ grinding on _Loki_).

"We can dance in some other way if you'd like," offers Darcy. "I mean, you're one half of this relationship too..." Awkward. Sooo awkward. "How do you dance on Assgird?"

"_Asgard_."

"Same difference. Just answer the question."

"I believe you have something called ballroom dancing here on Midgard. It is very near to one of our own dances back on Asgard and will have to do if you insist upon dancing," answers Loki informatively.

Back the fuck up. Ballroom dancing? Darcy knows something about ballroom dancing, but it's not the actual dance that makes her uneasy. It's the whole glorified metaphorical meaning of it. Ballroom dancing is for a princess and her Prince Charming, not for a blackmailed not-princess and her sorta-evil and maybe sorta-but-not-really-charming excuse of a boyfriend.

"Fine," Darcy says finally. She could just give up on the idea of dancing with Loki, but sue her, she feels bad for the guy. And also she's not going to give him the satisfaction of going through with something she told him to. "Let's dance."

Loki steps away from her, tucking his hands behind his back. His face is unreadable, but his voice is cool and collected when he says, "Very well, but I do not find that this establishment is a suitable setting for such a dance."

"Then let's go outside. Either way, you're dancing."

Darcy, who has only seen Loki to be angry, rude, and posh all night, is surprised to see that his face morphs into one of amusement, and he even cracks a small smile.

"You are different, Darcy Lewis," he says, his voice tinged with amusement as well. "I find that I rather endear your frankness. However, you forget that we do not have music, and therefore, we cannot dance." He then smirks at her. Wow, the bastard thinks he's really getting out of this, isn't he?

Darcy smirks at him. Two can play at that game. "You're right, Loki," she says. "But you've forgotten something too: I have something magical called my iPod for this." Proudly, Darcy takes out the true embodiment of magic (screw Loki's illusions) and holds it up.

Loki, if he is put off, does not show it. He does, however, appear to want to dispute the matter further, and Darcy just doesn't have time for this shit right now. So, in an act of boldness (or is it just the alcohol?), her hand shoots forward and grips his wrist, tugging him outside. Loki, in surprise, lets the scene unfold.

Outside is much better than inside. The night is still young, and the air has begun to cool. The breeze feels just right on Darcy's cheeks, and that makes her sigh in contempt. Loki isn't affected by the change of scene, though he does look at Darcy, clearly waiting for her next words.

Darcy inhales the cool air and says, "So...guess we should pick a song."

"We should, yes." Loki keeps his eyes trained on her. They're a nice green, Darcy muses. And when he looks at her, it's almost like he's a different person. He looks...normal.

Darcy clears her throat. "So, what's your poison?"

"Pardon?" Loki furrows his brow at the choice of words.

"Right, you're an alien and stuff. I mean, what's your jam? What type of music back on Assgird do you hear that really gets you going?" Darcy asks.

Loki frowns. "_Asgard_. And as for music, all music is relatively the same. It is always harmonic and soothing, and just right for dancing."

"All of it? So you don't have an equivalent to Fall Out Boy out there? Geez, no wonder your life sucked," says Darcy. "Well, what type of music do you hear since you've been on Earth?"

Loki just keeps frowning. "Only the abominations you have forced on me," he says.

"Abomi-what-now? I will ignore that dig towards the gifts that are the bands Bring Me The Horizon and Falling in Reverse because I know you're just naturally an asshole. But seriously, you don't like any music here? What about The Beatles?"

"Beetles? Are they not bugs?" asks Loki, confused.

Darcy has to do a double take. "_Bugs_? Wha- oh my God!"

"Yes?"

"No, you're not my God! I mean what the hell?! No one has showed you _The Beatles_?" Darcy gasps, because clearly, that is a tragedy! "Wow, when S.H.I.E.L.D is hard on their prisoners, they're tough."

Loki looks annoyed now, and that's saying something. "Well, do tell me what these bugs do already," he snips. "I am not a patient person."

"Yeah, I know that, but- hey, quit calling them bugs! They are-er, were- a legendary band! And they are currently going to be the artists of the song we're dancing to, because even though ballroom dancing goes with tasteless music, we're screwing tradition over today."

Loki raises an eyebrow at Darcy as she fumbles with her iPod, muttering obscenities to the screen about how her music collection is too big and that she can't find the song.

"Aha!" Darcy clicks the name of the song triumphantly. "Since you're a Beatles virgin, we're going with the song that started it all: 'I Want To Hold Your Hand'. Now, um, do you really know how to dance?"

"Of course." Loki looks offended at the suggestion that he doesn't.

"...Okay then. Um," Darcy starts, "I don't know what exactly to do. I mean, I kinda do, but then again, I kinda don't. So..." She is caught off guard when Loki steps forward and sets her iPod aside, carefully arranging a hand on her waist and using the other to take one of hers.

"You talk far more than other mortals," he notes, tightening his grip on her waist subtly. "I believe, as mortals say, you should follow my lead."

Darcy looks up at him and into those green eyes that are just a little to vibrant tonight. She gently places her other hand over the one he has around her waist and manages a soft nod (and also hopes in her head that she won't mess up and step on his feet or something).

Loki stays true to the promise that he will lead. Even to the unfitting music, he has a gentle, smooth way of moving that just blows Darcy away. Every step and careful, calm look her way is precise. Every movement he makes is graceful and calculated. Even the way he holds her is gentle and smooth; his hands are there, and yet, it feels like they're not.

Darcy, in turn, can somewhat hold her own. She hasn't stepped on his feet (yet) and can somehow move her feet to match his, though her movements are sometimes out of step and sloppy.

"Um...Loki?" says Darcy slowly, unsure if her voice works.

"Yes?"

"I..." Darcy trails off. What exactly is she going to say? So, Loki, why exactly do you even put up with this? And that is just the start if her questions. Why ask her out (aka blackmail her) and actually listen to her when she tells him to do something? Why not just have his way with her and leave her? Why does he want a relationship with her? Why is he trying to have a relationship with her?

"You appear troubled," notes Loki, and he gently tugs her closer. It's a smooth, quick gesture and actually makes Darcy's heart pick up quickly for like two seconds, but she knows she is _not_ going to get distracted by this guy who might actually be more charming than she imagined.

Darcy pushes back slightly. "Whoa, buddy, personal space," she says. "And, for the record, I'm not troubled. I just wanted to ask, um, what you think of The Beatles now."

Loki actually seems to pause and think about it. "They are adequate," he says, and he looks into her eyes with those green pools of mystery and adds, "I do agree that the type of music is not tradition."

"Well, they've broken music barriers," Darcy offers lamely. "Their whole legacy wasn't tradition, but now, it's commonly accepted. Kinda like..." _Dating a guy who can kill you in a second_. Wait, what? That's not common. Or acceptable.

And yet Darcy is doing it.

"Like what?" asks Loki slowly, and his words are drawn and lazy and it is enough to make Darcy swoon (British accent on an alien, hello), but luckily, she refrains from that weird thought.

Hold up, why is she suddenly so tongue-tied around this guy? Because she's noticed that he might actually like her, seeing how he puts up with her? Because he's attractive and can dance better than any past boyfriend she's ever had? Because...damn it, she's over thinking it. This whole dance ruined everything.

Everything. Her thoughts of Loki, her thought to not be attracted to him (but let's be honest, that thought was nonexistent), her thought of finding some way to get out of this relationship (but she'd better keep doing that, to be honest, because you can't just trust a murderer like that). And just one dance did that.

Ugh, this is all Jane's fault. Jane pushed Darcy to get Loki to dance. Darcy agreed. Loki agreed. And now Darcy feels like maybe she should give Loki a chance, which is a _very_ bad thought, considering who the guy freaking is! Damn The Beatles for having such sexy voices, and damn Loki's firm hands, and damn Jane...

"Like...stuff," blurts out Darcy after a prolonged silence.

Pause. "Stuff," repeats Loki slowly.

Darcy groans in her head. She is _so_ going to go die dramatically on her bed after this at how lame she is. And also get Jane to die with her, because it is still Jane's fault.

"Yes...stuff." Darcy offers nothing else but that.

Loki stares at her for quite a while before he nods slowly. "I suppose I will take your word for it, then," he says finally, and it's an awkward attempt to save the conversation, even for Loki.

Darcy winces. "I-" She pauses and suddenly notices that while The Beatles are still singing away, it is clearly not the song she put on. "Hold up, when did the song end?"

Loki looks at her, puzzled. "About five minutes ago," he says.

"And you kept dancing?" Darcy can't believe her ears. Five minutes. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts and Loki and Loki thoughts that she didn't even notice.

"I believe we are a couple, and couples do such," Loki says. "Is that not so?"

Darcy opens her mouth, about to reply, but she is cut off.

"Darcy! Uh...Loki," comes the distinctive voice of Jane as she stops dead in her tracks to see the two of them. "What-? And The Beatles-? Wait, you know what, I don't want to know."

"Jane!" Darcy practically shoves Loki away from her. "Hi! I mean-"

Jane just blushes slightly. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, but, Thor was worried, and I thought maybe I should find you guys...and get going. Unless you want to stay?" she says awkwardly.

Loki looks amused, and is about to speak, but Darcy cuts him off.

"Yeah, no, we're fine to go! We're..._great_ to go," she babbles.

"Great..." Jane looks at Loki, and then at Darcy, and the look on her face is enough to make Loki smirk at the discomfort and confusion she showcases. "I'll tell Thor..."

"You do that," says Darcy awkwardly.

Jane nods and slowly moves away. When she's gone, Loki moves close to Darcy so he is angled over her shoulder and simply says, "You handled that in a very strange way, did you not?"

Darcy groans lowly. Of course he'd put her on the spot, the asshole. "Whatever," she mumbles, pointedly ignoring the gaze of Loki, the same guy she knows her feelings are suddenly are scrambled for. "Let's just get to Thor and Jane, okay?"

"As you wish," says Loki amiably. Too amiably. Great, that's just what Darcy needs: for the asshole with the big ego to think she's all flustered because of him, and for the asshole to be right.

Stupid feelings for betraying Darcy like that.

Stupid Jane for making Darcy even go ask Loki to dance.

Stupid dancing for showing just how strange her relationship with Loki is.

Stupid mind for not making a decision about Loki yet.

Now Darcy has to sort out her feelings for a guy she shouldn't even be involved with. And it's not like she hates him or likes him, but really, shouldn't there be a middle for it? Being neutral? Ugh, she really has no clue what's going to happen next, with him being so confusing (blackmailing a girl and genuinely wanting to date her) and being so attractive (the way he moved was just..._damn_).

But one thing is for sure: she is _so_ going dancing with him again.

* * *

**Hey everyone! Sorry for not responding to reviews this chapter, but I promise it will never happen again! For now I'll just give you all shoutouts and hope you forgive me.**

**So, thanks to:**

**awong111**

**Guest**

**FloraIrmaTylee**

**windmelody**

**JigokuShoujosRevenge**

**DoubleDee068**

**rachelisafallenangel**

**CupcakeFlake**

**Nolesr1**

**scarletwitch0- Thanks for the word suggestion! :)**

**So keep sending in words! Letter E is next, and I really have no clue what to do with it. Also, as a bit of shameful self-promoton, check out my modern twist of Tasertricks in my story "Shattered Ambitions." Which I also have yet to thank people for too. Oops...**


	5. E is for Eavesdrop

**I'm not really a fan of this one, but it's the longest one yet, so...bittersweet.**

**Anyway, credit to _rachelisafallenangel_ for the word used for the letter E!**

Eavesdrop (verb): secretly listen to a conversation.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

Loki is bored, and that is a term he does not use loosely.

He has been waiting in the living room of Darcy's apartment for her, because she insists they have to have a date night. Considering he has been involved with Darcy for six months, and considering the fact that she has warmed considerably to him, he already has picked up on her mannerisms. And, by the way she kept twiddling her fingers as she told him about this supposed "date night," he knows she is lying.

But, he supposes he might as well humor the woman. Clearly she wants him there and has resorted to lying to do so, so whatever it is, it must be important. Loki has never ranked matters based on their importance, but Darcy is a very complex woman; Loki has come to know that whatever she decides goes, which admittedly doesn't suit him very well.

Every relationship, however, has to come with sacrifice. And, he supposes, if Darcy is now content that she is involved with him, he will bother to listen to her sometimes.

"LOKI! I NEED YOU!"

Perhaps now would be right. "Darcy?" Loki calls, on his feet in a second. Quickly, he hurries to her bedroom door, pushing it open hurriedly, expecting her to be in some sort of peril. He is bewildered to see her turn to him in relief, a smile on her face at seeing him there.

"Oh, good, you're here," she says happily. "Can you help me find my purse?"

Loki slowly lowers his guard and stares at the foolish woman smiling before him. "You sounded as though you were in desperate need of help," he mutters dejectedly.

"I do! So be my knight in shining armor and help me find my purse?"

Loki sighs. "Very well," he mutters, turning around and heads into the kitchen to retrieve her the object he has come to know as her purse. Taking orders from a mortal. That is what he is doing. And yet, he doesn't find himself able to refuse her anymore.

This could be very bad for him...

Darcy comes out of her room now, dressed in evening wear. "You found it?"

"Yes, I did," says Loki slowly, and his eyes scan her apparel in confusion. "Humor me, darling, but did we not say we were going to have a date night here? Why do you wear such a dress? Of course, not that you don't look ravishing in it..."

These sort of comments are more or less unnatural for Loki, to be honest. He doesn't pay Darcy many compliments, nor give her pet names such as "darling" on a regular basis. However, this time, the comments slip out as the honesty of them hit him. The dress she wears is formal, but short on her small form, and it hugs her body in a way that is positively alluring.

Darcy blushes slightly, clearly unused to these comments as well. "Stop, no compliments," she says. "You're going to make me feel really guilty when I tell you that I lied about the whole date night thing. Whoops, I just said that..."

Loki chuckles and says, "Of course you were lying; do you believe I cannot tell? But, of course, that does not tell me anything. Why is it that you are dressed as such?"

"Well," Darcy hesitates, "I...might've...talked to the girls..."

"What?"

"We decided to have a girls' night. Jane, Natasha, Pepper and me," explains Darcy.

Loki raises his eyebrows. "You?" he says. "Forgive me, but the last time you and Jane had a girls' night, you were so drunk you ended up in a stranger's home and had broken at least ten Midgardian laws."

"...that was _different_," Darcy says defensively, though Loki smirks, knowing she is lying. "This time Jane is going to be the wet blanket who doesn't drink and drives us all home when we're too shitfaced to recognize each other."

"Sounds like a wonderful time," notes Loki dryly. "I appreciate that you have explained your plans for the evening, but what use am I here? I assume I am not only here to find your strange Midgardian objects, am I?"

"No, that's just a bonus," jokes Darcy, but Loki is only assuming she is joking; he cannot distinguish her Midgardian humor with her sarcasm. "But you're right. I had to lie to you to get you to come because I knew you would have never gone with the guys if I hadn't."

"_Guys_? Who do you speak of?" Loki echoes.

"Weeeell, Jane talked to Thor, and then Tony got involved, so long story short, you're joining the Avengers (minus Natasha of course) for guys' night," Darcy explains, smiling sheepishly at him.

Loki stares at her, now more bewildered than ever. She is not lying this time; she is only sheepish about the whole thing, and she damn well should be! How can she ever leave him to such a fate?

"I will not do it," he informs her matter-of-factly.

Darcy's smile softens. "I know it's not your ideal way to spend your Saturday night," she admits, "but c'mon, this could be good for you! You could use some friends."

Loki frowns. "I do not want them as my _friends_. I do not need them. I have you."

"You can't hang out with me 24/7, dude. I mean you may be my boyfriend and all, but that would be too clingy," is Darcy's ever-so-caring reply. "Just go out and have a good time, okay? You'll have fun!"

Loki is about to reply, but all of a sudden, the doorbell rings.

"Oh, that must be everyone," Darcy says, and she hobbles over to the door in the torture devices she calls footwear. "Hi, guys," she says cheerfully as she opens the door.

Loki watches in sulking displeasure as his enemies (or _former_ enemies, he supposes, for Darcy's sake) file into Darcy's small apartment. The females are dressed similarly to Darcy, in evening gowns and torture-inducing footwear. The males, however, look much simpler in T-shirts and jeans.

Once everyone is inside, Darcy immediately begins to converse with Jane, Pepper, and Natasha. Loki is now left at the mercy of his brother, a cocky rich man, a stupidly loyal soldier, a meek scientist with a not-so-meek secret, and the foolish hunter who was once under Loki's control.

"Hey, Reindeer Games," greets Tony Stark affectionately as he saunters over to Loki in his usual manner. "You ready to hit the town? It's going to be awesome; we're gonna blow up the place."

Loki looks at Stark up and down coolly, sizing him up. "And here I thought you all did not approve of blowing up towns," says Loki calmly. "Is that not what led to our falling out a few months back?"

"Loki!" snaps Darcy, turning away slightly from the girls. "Behave!"

Loki is about to protest, but he is cut off by Stark's sudden snickering.

"Oh my gosh," says Stark, and his face morphs into one of glee. "You're whipped."

Loki is about to question what that entails, but the exasperated (and perhaps even tired) look that Darcy gives when she looks back in their direction tells him he is better off not knowing yet.

"Tony!" exclaims Darcy, clearly not appreciating whatever being whipped insinuates.

"Yes, dear friend?" asks Stark, playing the innocent.

Rogers, otherwise known as Steve, looks to Stark and insists something about how "he can't cut into personal lives" and whatnot, but from the way Darcy keeps glaring at Stark, it is clear Rogers never had to intervene; Darcy is going to get Stark back. Loki knows this for sure.

Sure enough, Darcy turns to Stark's lover. "Pepper, hit him," she implores.

Jane, who is next to Darcy, sighs. "Darcy," she says warningly, "that's rude."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm willing to do it," Pepper assures both Jane and Darcy, crossing her arms and glancing at Tony in the way only the stern blond could ever do.

Darcy grins in her direction, obviously respecting the woman, while Tony quickly coughs and moves away pathetically, stammering a quick need to speak to Banner, otherwise known as Bruce, about something. Loki smirks at the spectacle. Whatever being _whipped_ is, it appears Stark is far worse than he is.

"Okay, this has officialy gone weird," declares Natasha a second later. She looks to the three woman beside her and adds, "Let's go. The night won't get any younger."

"Good idea. Alright, losers, out of my apartment!" calls Darcy.

Stark rolls his eyes. "_We're_ the losers and yet you're the one in the apartment?"

"Don't give me sass," retorts Darcy. "I can still send Pepper on you."

"Oh, please do." Stark winks at Pepper in a show of flirtation.

Loki watches the spectacle with amused eyes as everyone begins to exit Darcy's apartment. Perhaps the night will not be so bad after all; he will just spend some time with some friends of Darcy's. And if Darcy is the one to wish it, then he shall try. At least he has not been assaulted by-

"We will have a _glorious_ time, brother!"

-Thor. The stupid oaf has now draped a meaty arm around Loki's shoulder eagerly. Clearly as he was not the one to greet Loki first, Thor feels the need to express his happiness of seeing his brother through strangling.

"Hello, Thor," deadpans Loki.

Thor grins at the acknowledge happily. "And hello to you as well! Now, we shall go and deliver blows to the night as the Man of Iron insists!" he exclaims. He looks over to the women. "Dearest Jane, Lady Darcy, Lady Peper, and Widow of the Blackest of Spiders, I bid you all farewell, for we must be going!"

"See ya, big guy," says Darcy cheerfully in response.

Barton, otherwise known as Clint, says goodbye to Natasha, as Stark says to Pepper, and then they, along with Rogers, Banner, and Thor, begin to walk to the elevator. Loki, however, lags behind, still unsure of this arrangement. Truthfully, the only person he wishes to be with is Darcy, and the thought is not one he should express right now. One quick glance her way makes her instantly catch on to his hesitance, and in a second, she's crossing the room to get to him.

"You're lagging," she chides playfully, taking his hands in her smaller ones.

Loki finds himself unable to surpress a smile at her playful, smiling tone. "I am not sure about this night," he admits quietly. "What if..." He does not continue, but does hope she understands that he is uneasy about his past with these men.

"You're going to be fine," says Darcy, catching on right away what he is thinking of. And while her tone is still playful, her eyes scan his with a surprisingly gentle purpose. "Okay?"

Loki finds himself nodding, unsure of what this woman is doing to him, and he is surprised when she suddenly raises herself up slightly and presses the softest of kisses on his lips. He kisses back briefly, but she pulls away before he can immerse himself in the feeling of her lips on his.

"Just don't try to take over the world again," adds Darcy, quirking the corners of her lips into a smile. "Or at least give me three days in advance for whenever you do."

Loki smirks at the playful banter she gives. "I assure you will be the first person I tell," he says, daring himself to tease just as she does. The effect brings an even wider smile to Darcy's lips.

"Deal," she says, and it appears as though she is going to kiss him again-

"Hey Reindeer Games! Either get a room or get moving!" comes the ever-so-eloquent voice of Tony Stark, which prompts Darcy to release Loki's hands and sigh in frustration.

Loki frowns in Stark's general direction. "I could end him," he mutters darkly.

"But you won't," interjects Darcy quickly. "Now go and join the others, okay? But make sure to play nice with them, since they're kind of the Avengers. And have fun, too."

"With those imbeciles? I doubt that," mutters Loki, but he finally turns and leaves to join said imbeciles, not letting himself look back in Darcy's direction. He knows that if he does, he might never will himself to leave again.

* * *

It is now eleven at night, and Loki desperately wishes to leave.

Thor is singing a drinking song with Stark, Stark because he is half-inebriated, and Thor because he wishes to. Barton and Bruce are conversing to each other with respective drinks, and Rogers is dancing with an unknown woman, leaving Loki alone.

Not that he minds, of course; the less contact with these inferior beings, the better. However, when Thor and Stark begin another round of song, this time the song is about the woes of love. Thor hardly knows the words and Stark bumbles over them, but Loki still hears the lyrics clearer than day.

The lyrics seem to trigger something in his brain and everything suddenly becomes clear. Why he always obeys Darcy without knowing why. Why he is so weak when it comes to her. Why she can kiss him and make his mind go blank. His infatuation with Darcy to get her to be his has now gone awry, for he suddenly realizes something alarming.

He is falling in love with her.

The realization makes his mouth go dry. He gulps a mouthful of the pitiful Midgardian ale which leaves no real lasting effect on him, but the dryness does not subside. It is much worse than he thought...

"Hey! Hey, guys!" Stark calls suddenly. "We still have stuff to do!"

Thor is by his side in an instant, beaming like a star pupil in a classroom. "Do tell what else men on Midgard do on nights such as these, Man of Iron," he pleads.

Stark pauses to take a long drink of Banner's drink, much to Banner's chagrin. "Well," Stark says, pausing for effect, "we guys on Earth like to go to a little place called a strip club..."

"No," Barton interjects.

"Aw, c'mon, Hawky, loosen up!" says Stark. "I know if Natasha finds out she'll kill ya, but what are the odds of her ever finding out?"

Barton rolls his eyes. "Gee, I don't know, what _are_ the odds?"

"Oh, right, she always has some fifth sense about getting stuff out of people," notes Stark absentmindedly. "But what else are we gonna do? We've done karaoke, drunk beer, danced our asses off, and now what?"

"We can go home," Banner suggests.

Stark gasps like the comment psychically hurts him. "Go home? But it's not even midnight yet! I refuse to go home until three in the morning, tops, and even then it's not the end of guys' night until one of you guys gets in trouble with the law."

"That's clearly your expertise, Stark, so perhaps you ought to be the one to do so," snarks Loki, which prompts a halfhearted laugh from Barton and Stark to place a hand on his chest as if wounded.

"I'm hurt," declares Stark, though his voice does not indicant that he is truly hurt by the words. "But seriously, there's gotta be something we can do to amp this night up."

"We could always blow the town up as you suggested," offers Loki mischievously.

"Hey, mister, contain your sass or I'll call the girl who's got you whipped to contain it for you. Heeey, now _that_ gives me an idea," says Stark carefully, and he takes out his phone. "J.A.R.V.I.S., give me Pepper's location."

**_Certainly, sir,_** comes the unit's response.

A second later, Stark proudly displays the location the girls are at: a dance club. He makes everyone else sit down at a table while he stands before them with the air of the cocky man he is, no doubt inwardly celebrating his newest idea.

"So the girls are at a dance club," Stark begins. "Clearly, everyone knows being that a whole bunch of single, attractive women at dance club equals trouble."

"But they're not single," points out Rogers.

"But the question is, are they going to say that tonight?" Stark asks. "Our women could be dancing with men that are not us right as we speak!"

"Um, they're not our women," Banner mentions. "Steve and I are single."

"Bruce, do you have to rain on any parade I have to conduct?" asks Stark, looking offended. "Now just hear me out, okay? I'm just saying we should check up on them-"

"Oh, then I can call Natasha," Barton offers.

"No way," scoffs Stark. "That's the easy way out. Reindeer Games!" He directs his attention to a half-listening Loki. "Can I count on your help to do this the totally awesome Tony Stark way?"

Loki looks at Stark now and curls his lip in disgust. "No," he says simply. "I do not believe I would be of much help of whatever it is you wish to pull; your friends may do so better than I would."

"I will help you, Man of Iron!" interjects Thor excitedly, being one of said friends.

Stark nods his way. "Sure thing, bud. But here's the thing, Lokes," he says, directing his attention to Loki. "I _can_ call you Lokes, right? I doesn't bother you? Great. So the thing is, we can't go to the dance club the girls are at because they're having their girly night or whatever. But you have magic, so _you_ can see what they're doing!"

Loki frowns. "And why would I desire to do such a thing?" he asks.

"I just told you," says Tony like it is self-explanatory. "They're out having a grand time without us. What if they're dancing with other men? You have to check and see."

Loki frowns harder. "Why would they dance with other men?"

Stark shrugs and pauses as it to think thoughtfully about it. "Well, I can't give you a direct answer to that one," he says, "but the point is, people do that. Now are you in or what?"

Loki frowns at the image of Darcy with another. If what Stark says happens, then he must find out what Darcy is doing to ensure she is not dancing with another, for she is his and his alone. Concentrating, Loki lets the magic flow through his mind as he connects to Darcy.

For a second, he hears everything around her, and sees a few brief images of what is before him through Darcy's eyes. She is sitting at a table, much like they are, along with the other women. Relieved, he notes she is not with another.

"Darcy is not with another," Loki informs Stark. "Nor are the others."

"So what are they doing?" asks Stark, beaming that Loki has cooperated.

"They are sitting and conversing among each other," Loki replies.

Stark rubs his hands together in an act of maniacal plotting. "Ooh, that's perfect," he says gleefully, and he grins at the men. "Now here's the _new_ plan-"

"New plan?" Rogers interrupts. "Tony, you already know the girls aren't dancing with other guys. That was already low of you to think. You can't seriously mean that you now want to-"

"Oh, but I do," says Stark. "Eavesdropping!"

Rogers sighs and gives up.

Clint speaks up. "No," he says, "we can't."

"You're just saying that because Natasha will kick your ass later if she finds out."

"She _will_ find out."

Loki is considering leaving right about now. What idiots these Avengers are, and to think, they once thwarted his plan to take over the world. It would be easy to leave now and not be noticed...

"Lokes!" Stark calls, whipping his head to face him. "What do you say?"

Loki wants to say several things to the stupid, dimwitted man, but he knows if he does then he will be not "playing nice" as Darcy had chided him to before he left.

"I am not sure," is what Loki says at last. "What would I gain?"

Barton raises a glass to his lips and mutters, "Hell."

Stark ignores him. "Info, of course," he informs Loki. "You and your brother don't get it, since you're aliens and all, but here on Earth, girls talking only means one thing: gossip."

Rogers scoffs and says, "And you're interested in gossip right now?"

"He's just worried Pepper is revealing his deepest secrets as we speak," Banner chimes in, and Rogers shoots him a grin to acknowledge the mutual humor they find in the statement.

"I'll ignore that because I am not going to pay for whatever damage your green rage monster could do right now," Stark says, and he turns to Loki and adds, "But gossip here on Earth, among girls, only leads to another thing: guys. And since we're the guys in their lives-"

"Steve and I are still single," interjects Banner.

"-they're going to be talking about _us_," finishes Stark. He looks expectantly at Loki, raising his eyebrows. "So? What do you say? Want to find out what your girlfriend thinks of ya?"

Loki does not know how to respond. While he _does_ want to know how Darcy speaks of him to others, he is slightly unsure if he really wants to know. He is falling in _love_ with the woman for Odin's sake; does he really have the need to find out something he does not want to hear from her? Like if she despises him, perhaps? Or if she even returns his feelings in the slightest?

"Is that what commonly happens in these events, Man of Iron?" questions Thor. "Do men on Midgard always listen in on the women they admire to figure out how they feel?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," replies Stark easily.

Loki recognizes that the man, however smoothly he plays it, is lying. This revelation makes Loki respect Stark just the slightest, for it seems Stark has his own sense of mischief, just as Loki does. In the end, the prospect of mischief is what prompts Loki to connect his mind to Darcy's once more, pausing to listen in to the conversation.

_"So, just how crazy does Stark drive you?" Natasha is asking Pepper._

_Pepper laughs just the slightest. "Honestly?" she says, looking up at the women around her. "He drives me insane with everything he does. He's crazy, he's stupid, he's...Tony."_

_"I can't argue the part where he's stupid," notes Natasha casually._

_Pepper laughs a little more. "And what about Clint?" she asks._

_Natasha grips the drink in her hand just the slightest bit tighter. "What of him?"_

_"How...is he? I mean, does he drive you crazy too?"_

_Natasha shrugs. "Every couples has to, I guess," she says. "I'm not sure if he really drives me _crazy_, though. It's kind of like if one of us goes crazy, so does the other."_

_Darcy speaks now, which makes Loki focus most on her. "Hold up, hold up," she declares, and it is clear she's slightly tipsy. "Not _every_ couples has to drive each other crazy."_

_Natasha quirks an eyebrow at her. "And I suppose Loki is all calm and sane."_

_Darcy giggles at that. "Oh, hell no," she says bluntly. "But I don't mean _my_ relationship, I mean _Jane's_! C'mon, Jane, isn't Thor just, like, perfect?"_

_Jane opens her mouth in halfhearted protest when she hears this. "What?" she says. "No! I-I mean, not that I don't think he's perfect, but I mean, we drive each other crazy too; he's always gone, and I'm always...here. Tasha's right that every couple drives each other crazy."_

_Natasha shifts her weight slightly to gaze at Darcy in a more questionable position. "And so if I'm right," she says, "that would mean that Loki drives you crazy too."_

_Pepper looks interested now too. "Yeah, just how crazy does he drive you?" she asks. "It can't be easy, having to date a guy because he blackmailed you into it."_

_Darcy pauses to think about it, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Well, we're kind of past the whole blackmail thing," she admits. "He's changed. It's just two normal-ish people in a relationship."_

_"But surely he's more...demanding to your mental health, isn't he?" Jane asks._

_"I dunno about that," notes Darcy. "He is kinda crazy. I mean, guy tried to take over the world once. He was evil. That kind of stuff lingers, y'know? But he's better now. He saved my life. He honestly tries to keep a relationship with me because he kinda likes me. And it's really not healthy to be _with_ him. He drives me crazy every second of the day because I don't know if one day he'll just snap back to evil and forget about me."_

_Jane quietly leans forward. "Oh, Darce," she murmurs. "I didn't think-"_

_"No, it's okay," says Darcy, waving off the subject. "But you guys are right. I'm fucking crazy just being with the guy, and even crazier because I...might even be falling in love with him, too."_

_Pepper looks surprised. "Oh, wow," she says. "That's-"_

Loki never finds out what she thinks, because he breaks the contact and slowly leans back in his seat with everything said running through his mind. Darcy doubts him. Darcy is falling in love with him. Neither are good, and yet, they are opposite. What is he to do?

"So, did you get anything?" comes Stark's annoying voice.

Loki conjures the illusion of a piece of parchment with the whole conversation displayed on it in wording, letting it fall before Barton. As Barton picks it up, Loki slides out of his seat and stands, knowing what he must do.

Barton reads the paper quickly, and his eyes flit to Loki. "Go," he says quietly.

Loki was not awaiting permission, but he does nod in Barton's direction, knowing that Barton means well. Quickly, Loki magics himself before the dance club Darcy is at, and he swiftly enters the place and finds her and the other women at their table.

"Darcy, we must talk," says Loki when he reaches the table.

Darcy looks surprised to see him. "Oh, Loki!" she says. She peers past him. "Are the other guys with you, or are you just playing hooky from them? I told you, you had to _stay_ and-"

"He knows what you said," interrupts Natasha.

Both Darcy and Loki turn to her.

"What?" It is Darcy that speaks.

Natasha raises her cup to her lips. "What you said just now about him. He knows what you said," she repeats, and she glances over at Loki knowingly.

Darcy's mouth opens and closes, clearly displaying how lost she is, but Loki grips her hand and tugs her away from the table she is seated at swiftly, since she clearly is not about to move.

They go outside. Or rather, Loki drags Darcy outside.

"Was she right?" asks Darcy in a low voice once they are alone. "You heard?"

Loki sighs. "Yes," he admits. "I connected to your mind."

"What? But...we agreed you wouldn't do that," Darcy says, confused. "Why-"

"I was eavesdropping," Loki cuts her off. "Stark insisted that you Midgardian girls often speak of the men they are involved with when they are with other female companions, and I wished to find out what you thought of me. I found out and now I wish to speak to you about it."

Darcy still appears lost. "B-but you weren't _supposed_ to know! And eavesdropping? What are you guys, ten-year-olds? That was a real low move, Loki!"

"I know," says Loki, and he fears his voice is too desperate as he adds, "But I do not wish to linger on that. May we speak of what you said or not?"

Darcy groans, and she places her face in her hands briefly before pulling away and then facing Loki. "You know what? Whatever, let's do that," she agrees. "Usually I'd save heavy talks until I'm drunk, but, I'm tipsy and that'll have to do."

Loki almost wants to smile at the stupid comment she gives, because the way she says it is so endearing. Clearly, she has bewitched him if he wishes to smile at such an asinine comment.

"You said I drove you insane," notes Loki. "Perhaps we should discuss that."

Darcy bites her lip. "Well, not to be rude, but you kinda do," she admits. "I mean, you're always going on about how much better you are than everyone, and how you're too high and mighty and should be a king, and it's...infuriating. I don't know how to deal with a guy like that. It's like you're a whole different level of asshole!"

Loki does not know how to respond. Surely she does not want him to believe he is _equal_ to Midgardians, does she? Clearly, that is not the case!

"But, to be honest, I...got used to it," adds Darcy. "And it's kind of...weirdly cute, because it's kind of what makes you _you_, and I like you. Against my better judgement, but I like you."

Loki dares to move closer to Darcy now, letting his eyes linger over her face before locking with her own eyes. "And you mentioned something else," he breathes. "That...you are afraid I will one day forget you and move on to go back to my sinister ways."

Darcy, who has been very tense, somehow tenses more. "I did," she says quietly.

Loki falters in his gaze, in his speech, in his stance. He does not know how he wishes to respond. He can let go of this woman now and save him the trouble she is causing him by making him so weak, or he can force himself to realize he might actually be able to have a weak spot for someone.

"Then I must tell you...that I will never do so," says Loki finally, and he reaches for Darcy's tense hand, slowly gripping her fingers gently. "I am not a changed man. I cannot assure you I ever will fully change. But if there is one thing I am certain of as to who I am, Darcy, it is that I am falling in love with you as well, and I do not intend to let that slip by me in the slightest."

Darcy's body, once tense, relaxes slightly. "Really?" she whispers.

Loki swallows the tension that builds in his throat at the realization of just how true it all is, nodding just once. "Of course," he mutters lowly. "And I am very sorry about ever having eavesdropped on you. I never intended to offend you. I care for you, Darcy Lewis."

Darcy slowly begins to smile. A little bashfully at first, and then the smile evolves into a wide grin. "You're being romantic," she says almost accusingly.

"Do not tell anyone," says Loki, and he slowly begins to smile back.

Darcy moves forward and takes his other hand so she is close to him, angling her face to gaze up at his. "Look at us," she says laughingly. "A couple of freaks who are falling in love because one mischievous demigod tried to eavesdrop."

"Tried? I'm sorry, darling, but I assure you, I succeeded."

Darcy keeps grinning. "Sorry, pal, but most people who eavesdrop are not supposed to get caught. There's a reason why people do it; it's supposed to be a secret."

"Oh?" Loki looks down at her, smirking slightly and shifting closer to her. "And would you have wished that I would have never revealed that I did to you?"

"Hmm, it'd certainly be nice to pretend for everyone else."

"So you wish to make this a secret for now? I'm afraid the other Avengers and your female friends already have the knowledge that you are falling in love with me," Loki says.

"Geez, and you're supposed to be the God of Mischief?" scoffs Darcy. "I mean, since they don't know what _you_ feel for me, maybe we can use this for some pranking opportunities."

"How..._mischievous_ of you," says Loki, smirking even more. "Go on."

"Well, we're going to have to do our own fair share of eavesdropping..."

* * *

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**So you see all those names above? Yes, those are the single most amazing people ever, because they were as kind to review last chapter! So as always, thanks for reading, and send in words for the letter F!**


	6. F is for Fish

**I'm a stress-writer. Not good. But anyway, here's another chapter! It's not too long and hopefully it'll be cute and funny for you guys.**

**Word credit to _florairmatylee_.**

Fish (noun): a limbless cold-blooded vertebrae animal with fins and gills and lives wholly in water.

**I have to make these, so: I don't own Thor.**

* * *

Loki once called Darcy childish.

She's only remembering this right now because while she might have hit the guy and complained about it at the time, truthfully she _does_ like being a little childish. Everyone still has the spirit of a child in them, don't they? Well except for maybe Jane, who Darcy suspects has the spirit of an eighty-year-old grandma, the way she always fusses over things.

But anyway, Darcy might be slightly childish, but she's never really acted like it before the last few weeks. And _that_ all happened because something really amazing happened. Well, she moved in with Loki into his apartment, but that's not the amazing thing. The amazing thing is that she's away from Jane!

Well, Darcy loves Jane, _obviously_. Her eighty-year-old spirit has been pretty nice to Darcy, and if it weren't for Jane, Darcy probably wouldn't be in the place she is now. But Jane is also an eighty-year-old woman in the sense that she has no childish spirit and never let Darcy have a pet, so it's amazing that Darcy can now get one!

Darcy adores pets. Especially dogs. She's always wanted a puppy, even from when she was younger, but her dad was allergic to dogs. Then when she grew up (sorta), she _still_ couldn't get a puppy, because Jane insisted a dog would not fit well into their lives. Meanie.

She still doesn't have a puppy _now_, because well, she figures she might have to talk that one over with Loki (double standards and all that), but she figures she can still have a _pet_. That is what made her go to the pet store right after work and buy a goldfish.

But when Darcy brings it home, Loki is unimpressed.

He doesn't even look up to notice she's brought it. Instead, he stays seated on their couch, casually reading a book. You'd think he would bother to look up when his _girlfriend_ comes home from work. Asshole.

Whatever, she isn't going to let that stop her. Loki is going to see how great it is to have a pet around so she can get the puppy she wants. In a spur-of-the-moment thing, Darcy marches over to the couch, takes his book away, and shoves the round fishbowl in her hands towards his face.

He finally lets his green eyes flicker to the bowl in her hands, and when he notices what it is, he raises his eyebrows in Darcy's direction and wearily asks, "Darcy, what are you doing?"

"Showing you the cute little guy I bought on the way here," Darcy says, beaming. Well, he is cute in his scaly, wet way. "So, what do ya think?"

Loki keeps his eyebrows raised. "It is rather small," he informs her.

"That's what she said," Darcy can't help but joke. "But that's it? That's all you're going to say?" she asks, slightly disappointed. She hadn't expected him to get starry-eyed in happiness as he gazed at the fish, but she had expected something...better. Something _not_ about its size.

Loki arches an eyebrow at her in confusion. "What else do you wish me to say?" he asks. "I am merely informing you of its size, for I do not see how you are going to eat it and be rid of hunger with such small a creature."

"Eat-? What the hell, Loki!" Darcy shrieks, pulling the bowl away from her boyfriend and to her chest protectively. "People don't eat- well, people _do_ eat fish, but not _this_ type of fish! This is a _goldfish_."

"It looks orange and unremarkably like gold to me," remarks Loki.

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know, you take everything so literally," she grumbles (she's really gotta get him to stop doing that). "But this is a pet, not food!"

"A pet? You Midgardians are strange," Loki declares, looking at the fish strangely. "You eat creatures and also keep them as pets at the same time? You mortals are certainly more bloodthirsty than I had ever imagined."

"No, there are just certain types of fish to eat," Darcy explains. "This isn't one of them; this is one to keep for a pet. Now come over here, I want to show you how easy it is to keep a pet." She walks into the kitchen and sets the fishbowl proudly on the table, waiting for Loki to follow.

He's still looking at her like she's crazy, but he does.

Darcy digs through the pet shop bag she has on her arm, taking out a can of fish food and a fake plant to put in the bowl to make it pretty. She heads back into the kitchen, hands Loki the food, and then sets the plant in the fishbowl.

Loki watches all of this skeptically. "What are you doing?" he asks again.

"Making his home pretty," Darcy tells him matter-of-factly. Obviously he knows nothing about fish, but he's smart; he should get it. "Now you can feed him, if you want."

"I do not want to." Loki's answer is sadly predictable.

"Aw, you think you have a choice," Darcy mock coos, which makes Loki frown. "Now feed the damn fish, okay!" She gestures to the fish with her hands, knowing he isn't about to start doing it willingly.

"Why must I feed it?" Loki asks in disgust as he reads the back of the fish food can. "I am a _God_, not a servant of such a dull minded creature as this one."

Darcy rolls her eyes. Of course the guy has serving issues.

"It's just food. It kind of needs that to live," she reminds him.

"If it wished to live it would serve itself if its own food," sniffs Loki snootily, but he shakes the can anyway and serves the fish just the right amount of food it needs. "And what now must we do?" he asks as he watches the fish devour its food, a plain look of disgust on his face.

"Enjoy how fun it is," Darcy says. "See? He's happy."

Loki doesn't believe her. "You have no way of telling," he counters. "For all we know, the creature could be basking in discomfort and is only eating to mask the pain."

"Well if he is, then he's my type of fish," Darcy says, sighing and remembering when she used to eat away her own problems. Ah, the joys of last week. "Okay, now we have to pick a name for him!"

"It must be named as well?" Loki looks at the fish with a new level of disgust on his face. "First I must serve it, and now you wish to be bonded with it?"

"That's what pets are _for_," Darcy stresses.

Loki shakes his head. "This custom is strange," he mutters.

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Thank you, E.T.," she deadpans. "Now come on, bounce some names off of me. He's your pet too, so we should pick a name together."

Loki sighs. "Very well. What of the name Hel?"

"We are not naming our fish after hell, that's just rude," Darcy scolds.

"You misunderstand, my dear. I refer to Hel the name," Loki counters.

"Like H-e-l?" Darcy asks.

Loki nods, satisfied.

"...your daughter?" Darcy slowly asks.

Loki's satisfaction fades away. "I beg your pardon?" he asks.

"I looked you up on Google," Darcy explains. "There was, like, a whole list of your kids. Hel, Fenrir, some kind of sea serpent...and also a horse. Did you really get knocked up by a horse?" Loki's always been a bit experimental in bed, but to the level of fucking a horse? Kinda creepy to think about.

"You believe me to have _children_?" Loki's looking at her like she really _is_ crazy. "That is an absurd idea!" he sputters, now looking sorta offended.

"So Sigyn isn't real either?" Darcy can't help but ask.

"Sigyn? Who is that?"

"...your wife?" Darcy offers.

"Wife?!" Loki now looks pissed off. "Who is telling these lies of me? I shall find this insolent fool and take his life if he dares to continue!"

"Okay first of all: sexist! Second of all: so that's not true?" Darcy asks.

"No, of course not," Loki huffs indignantly. "They must all be rumors."

"Oh. Well okay, then," Darcy says slowly, trying really hard not to picture Loki with a horse and miserably failing. "As long as I don't have to go crazy ex-girlfriend on this Sigyn's ass, then we're good. So, pet names?"

Loki, looking sort of lost at her (pretty good) wordplay, just mutters, "You may name the creature as you desire. I do not wish to partake in this game of names any longer."

"No can do, mister. This is a couple thing. So throw me another name. I know last time you managed to choose the name of one of your imaginary kids, but this time it won't be as bad," Darcy says, because what are the odds?

Loki gives in. "Very well. What about Sleipnir?" he suggests.

Welp, the odds were pretty fucking good, it seems.

Loki sees the look on her face. "Do not tell me," he groans.

"...Yeah, that's the name of the horse you supposedly gave birth to."

Loki rubs a hand over his face, and Darcy has to stifle a laugh. Even when he's not a bad guy anymore, he still gets the worst luck. Ladies and gentleman, that's Loki for you.

"Name the damned creature yourself," Loki growls, pulling his hand away and still looking kinda pissed. "I will not subject myself to this ridiculous task."

"Well, I can bounce some names too, I guess," Darcy says, trying to make him feel better about this. "Let's see...Bob. Jerry. Oprah. I like Oprah, actually..."

Loki makes a face. "We will not name it after an entertainer of yours," he snaps.

"Ha! So you do care what we name the fish!"

Loki rolls his eyes. "I merely care that his name will not be foolish."

He so cares.

"Okay, then, give me some better ideas," Darcy challenges. "Good luck with that one, buddy, because Oprah is possibly the most badass name anyone could ever name their pet fish."

"Why must it have a name?" Loki asks, changing the subject. "Surely it will not respond to any name you give it; these creatures are remarkably dull."

"It's _fun_," Darcy stresses, though to be honest, he's got a point. Fish aren't like dogs; they're not going to look to you and smile and wag their tails when you call their name...dammit, she wants a puppy!

"This does not seem _fun_ to me."

"Nothing's fun to you, idiot," scoffs Darcy, and Loki looks offended at the remark, which makes her grin in his direction. He sits down in one of the chairs around the table, staring at the fish and keeping his offended face on.

"His name should be gallant," he finally says. "Something extraordinary."

"Hello, _Oprah_."

"No," Loki says flatly.

Darcy groans dramatically. "You're no fun," she accuses, going over to his chair and throwing herself over the back so her chin is on top of Loki's head. "What about Ringo?"

"We are not naming our pet after your beloved bug member."

"Ringo Starr is just one member of the Beatles, Loki, gosh," scolds Darcy. "That doesn't mean when I want to name our pet Ringo that I'm...heeeey, you just said the fish was _our_ pet! I knew you'd love him." This she finishes off with a pinch to Loki's cheek lovingly.

Loki sucks in his cheeks, clearly tired of this whole thing. "I am attempting to endure this task for you, Darcy," he says. "Do humor me about it."

"Fine, we'll name him something gallivant-"

"Gallant."

"Whatever. We can always name him...Thor," Darcy offers mischievously.

Loki stiffens underneath her, which makes Darcy laugh.

"Kidding, babe," she assures him, leaning over and placing her hands over his shoulders and her cheek side-by-side with his. "What names do you have that are gallivant?"

"_Gallant_. And I have a few. Balder, perhaps, or Malik, or even-"

"Cutting you off there," Darcy interrupts. "You know I like your accent and could hear you talk all day, but these names? Boring and old-timey. We need something cute and interesting."

"_Cute_?" Loki echoes, incredulous. " No, what we need is a name to which our pet's enemies will tremble at hearing," he argues. "One such as Serkon, or-"

"Nope, not cute," Darcy cuts him off. "We have to name him something that sticks and just falls out easily. Saying 'Hey Loki, did ya feed Serkiderk' isn't good."

"_Serkon_."

"Yeah, we need something cuter," Darcy goes on, ignoring him. She appreciates his effort, of course, but if the guy can't appreciate the name Oprah then he's got something wrong with him. "Like Fishy."

"Fishy," Loki echoes, and the cute name sounds really weird in his serious tone.

Darcy kinda likes it. "Yup," she says proudly.

"It is ridiculous," Loki deadpans. "You have merely added a sound to the end of the creature's species. It will not make any enemies our pet shall have tremble in the slightest."

"And who's gonna be the fish's enemy? _You_?" Darcy mocks. "Hate to break it to you, Loki, but the only people the fish is ever going to know are me, you, and probably Jane and Thor. There's no way it's going to have enemies."

"You say that now," argues Loki. "If it happens?"

"Then I'm probably drunk and imagining it," quips Darcy. "Now c'mon, what do you think? Fishy's cute, it's catchy, and I can say that really easy. 'Loki! Come feed Fishy!' See? Cute."

Loki's hands go up to touch Darcy's, slowly intertwining their fingers. "You are lacking one part of judgement, my dear," he says. "_I_ will not be feeding this creature at all; I will not wait hand and foot for such asinine creatures."

"Asshole," Darcy grumbles, but she lets him keep holding her hands because while he's an asshole, he's _her_ asshole. "Then I'm totally keeping his name as Fishy, and you can't do anything about it."

"Very well," Loki agrees. "You shall be the one waiting on him hand and foot."

Darcy sighs. Well, the whole bringing-home-a-pet thing backfired now that Loki just realized how he would have to be serving the fish and taking care of it. Maybe she'd better wait for the whole asking-for-a-puppy thing.

"You suck," she declares, sighing.

"Eloquent as usual, my dear." Loki's grip on her fingers tighten. "By the way, may I ask what compelled you to go and buy a pet? Surely you did not truly want this creature."

"Shut up, Fishy can hear you," Darcy scolds. "And I figured we should get a pet. Y'know, couples do that...sometimes..." _When they want a puppy so freaking bad_.

"Hmm. Well, dear, if we ever _do_ get that dog, I inform you now that I will be the one naming it, as you have so fully failed at naming our current pet," Loki notes.

Darcy quickly pulls her hands away and circles around the table to glare at him. "How'd you find out?" she demands, placing her hands on her hips.

"Jane informed me," Loki says, and he has the nerve to actually smirk at her. "She said you have always wanted a dog, and that I should brace myself for the begging you would do. Though, I'm fairly certain purchasing a fish was not something Jane foresaw."

Darcy crosses her arms. "You knew that the whole time?"

"Of course," says Loki effortlessly.

"...Asshole," Darcy grumbles again.

Loki just starts to laugh, the idiot. "Do not be cross, my dear," he says smoothly. "For what it is worth, you made a valiant attempt to sneak past me to get your way. It was rather interesting."

Darcy just uncrosses her arms, picks up Fishy's fishbowl, and tosses her hair back dramatically, moving away from the table with the bowl tucked in her arms. "Fishy and I aren't going to talk to you," she calls behind her back.

"How upsetting," Loki says from the kitchen, probably still smirking as he adds, "I was rather looking forward to what stimulating company the fish could have provided."

"Don't be a smartass!" calls Darcy as she takes Fishy into her room, shutting the door behind her. She isn't mad, exactly, but kinda pissed. Just kinda, because Loki didn't do anything. No, she's more of embarrassed that Loki knew this whole time and now she has a fish. A fish who is going to grow up with the weirdest name ever, being named _Fishy_. Darcy doesn't even like it _that_ much; it sounds funny, now that she thinks about it.

Aaaand now she's thinking about a fish like it's even going to give two shits about Loki or its name. All it's ever going to do is swim around and do fish stuff, not care about stuff like _names_ and what people call it.

Oh well, all the more reason to name it Oprah.

* * *

**To the following people, a massive shoutout:**

**scarletwitch0**

**maya**

**awong111**

**DoubleDee068**

**JigokuShoujosRevenge**

**Nolesr1**

**FloraIrmaTylee- I used your word, so extra shoutout!**

**CupcakeFlake**

**rachelisafallenangel**

**Thank you for the reviews! We've already passed fifty! That's amazing! And you all have the best word ideas, too! You don't know how hard it was to pick a word for this chapter. I assure you, though, I will do a word from every person who has been reviewing at least once by the time this whole thing's over, so keep sending in words! Let's hope I get some awesome ones for the letter G, though thanks to DoubleDee068 for already suggesting some. :)**


	7. G is for Grotesque

**So, when I started this oneshot series, it was going to be like 300% angst and fluffiness of, like, 0.7%. But now it's evolved into nothing but fluffy all the time, so, that didn't exactly work out. Oh well, I at least tried to incorprate _some_ angst here; I can never write for any couple without angst. That's just a given.**

**Anyway, word credit to _JigokuShoujosRevenge_. :)**

Grotesque (adjetive): Comically or repulsively ugly or distorted.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor. Wait, let me check...nope, still don't.**

* * *

_Grotesque._

Loki quietly lets the word race through his mind as he gingerly shifts the hand resting on his love's abdomen. He does so all while gazing at her dark hair splayed across the pillows and listening to her soft breathing midst the darkness of the night, taking the comfort of the sight for himself. The small movement makes her mumble something incoherent in a sleepy daze, and she sleepily tugs his fingers with hers.

Loki, breathing as slowly as he allows himself, rests his forehead against the back of her head and wills himself to close his eyes and banish the word from his head. His demons torment him at the worst time, it seems, and whenever he is around her. That, however, might be because when he is with her, he always cannot banish the thought that he is not good for her. He is a monster. He is hideous. He is repulsive. He is _grotesque_.

He is a Frost Giant.

She's mumbling something else. This prompts Loki to lift his head and gaze down at her, though she does not seem to notice; she just keeps moving those soft pink lips of hers and tightening her grip on his fingers, never once opening her eyes. His love sleeps heavily, for a mortal. Alas, even her smallest turnoffs cannot pull him away from her.

Though if she were to see his...

He tightens his grip on her abdomen, feeling the soft cotton of her sleepwear shirt underneath the pads of his fingers. Pulling her gently closer to him, he buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling and exhaling measuredly. Whenever he feels the doubt of himself, he can never bring himself to speak to her about it, even when she might offer him comfort.

Loki fears losing her. She is meant to be _his_. His mortal. His love. His companion. His Darcy. And just as much as she is his, he is hers. He knows he is her companion. Her love. Her Loki. She knows of his origins, and yet, she has never seen him in his true form. Though Darcy Lewis is a curious mortal and has inquired upon seeing his Jötun form before, Loki has always neglected to show her.

He fears what he will lose if he does.

Darcy turns in the bed so she comes face-to-face with Loki, continuing to mumble in her sleep. Loki drapes a hand over her waist and watches her carefully, seeing how she sighs and moves in her sleep, memorizing the way she restlessly moves in her slumber and continues to pull him close, even in half-consciousness.

She is beautiful. Not only because of her fair skin, or the soft curves of her body, or the brilliant blue of her eyes, or her luscious lips, but of her character. She _loves_ him, even with everything's he done, even when being with him is a dangerous thing to do. She is perfect, and Loki knows he does not deserve her. He does not deserve any of this. The love, the warmth of being in her bed, the trust she has in him; he is not a worthy recipient of any of it.

Gently, he extends a hand and rests his palm against the warm flesh of her cheek, moving his thumb in slow circles and memorizing the feel of her skin. Her mumbling has ceased by now, and now she is at peace, her chest rising up and down in a periodic breathing pattern.

Loki should leave her. She deserves so much more. She needs someone who can bear themselves to her fully without hiding. She needs something who isn't hideous. Who isn't repulsive. Who isn't grotesque. For a second, Loki almost slips out of the bed, ready to do as he should.

But he cannot. He is too selfish. He wants, he takes, and never deserves.

Loki breathes in too sharply and jerks his hand away from Darcy's face as though her skin has burned him. The sudden shift of movement startles her awake, and in a second, Loki sees those brilliant blue eyes staring back at him.

"Jesus, Loki, you scared the shit out of me," she complains, and she places a hand over the arm on her waist, gazing at him through half-lidded eyes. "Were you just pulling a Twilight vampire?"

Loki controls his breathing once more. In and out. Out and in. "What?"

"Twilight vampire. You know, creepily watching me sleep?" Darcy asks as she squints at him (though of the darkness of her poor eyesight, Loki cannot tell). "Hey...you okay? You look spooked."

"I am fine. Go back to sleep," Loki assures her quietly.

Darcy pulls herself out of his grip and reaches over him to turn on the light (in her ever-so-eloquent manner, which consists of her almost taking one of his eyes out with her blasted elbow).

"Like hell you're fine," argues Darcy as she leans back from turning on the light, crossing her legs and sitting upright in the bed. "You're speaking in your I'm-hiding-something voice."

"I'm surprised you can tell I am, darling," Loki says, smirking and pushing himself upright so he is on his elbows and his body is angled to the right.

"Don't try to change the subject," Darcy counters, pushing his shoulder affectionately in a way to reprimand him. "And don't do that with your body while you don't have a shirt on. It's distracting."

"Ah, I see. Forgive me, then," Loki says, sitting up formally and smiling fondly at the irritated expression Darcy wears when he does; the expression is one she wears often, truth be told. "I apologize for being such a distraction for you."

Darcy frowns. "Are you trying to seduce me? Because it's working."

Loki chuckles. "No, my love, though it is nice to know I could be," he teases, but just as quickly, the word _grotesque_ flashes through his mind and he suddenly feels sick to his stomach. Swallowing thickly, he looks to Darcy and adds, "You ought to sleep."

"So should you."

"You need sleep more than I," Loki reminds her. With a wave of his hand the light goes off and he tries to draw Darcy into his arms, but the woman is stubborn and she climbs right over him to get to the lamp again.

"No sleeping," she tells him when the lights are back on.

Loki offers a sultry smirk. "Are _you_ now trying to seduce me?"

"God, Loki, get your head out of the gutter!" Darcy plucks a pillow from her side of the bed and hits him over the head with it. "We have to talk; something's bothering you."

"You are tired," Loki counters. "You must get to sleep-"

"Nope. We're talking about this." Darcy uncrosses her legs, mirroring Loki's earlier pose, but propping her head up with a fist and not angling her body as much. "So start."

Loki shakes his head. "You are tired," he tells her again, and he reaches out and brushes a lock of her wavy brown hair from her face. "Your eyes are red and you will soon struggle to stay awake."

"Nope," Darcy repeats. "I'm as wide awake as a Katy Perry song; I'm good."

Loki sighs; she is too stubborn. "Sometime else, love," he says softly. "It is late. I do not want to see you suffer in the morning; you must get sleep now."

"Wait, does that mean there's something you have to say?" Darcy perks up.

Loki swallows once more. "No," he says.

"You hesitated."

"I did not."

"Did too!" Darcy jumps up from her position, violently shaking their bed as she gets on her knees, throwing her upper body over Loki in a pathetic attempt to get him to hold her. "You have to tell me now."

Loki amusedly smiles as he lies back on the bed, drawing the foolish woman into his arms; even though she is stubborn and Loki ought to hate her for it, he always ends up being swayed.

"There really is nothing to tell," Loki says. "I was merely...thinking."

"About?" Darcy prompts, arranging herself so her head is right on his chest, her arms laced around his neck and Loki's hands on her waist.

"What I am," Loki admits quietly.

Darcy snickers into his chest. "What is this, a Disney movie?"

Loki rolls his eyes. "This is why you need sleep, darling; you tend to reference pointless nothings whenever you speak to me," he says amusedly, attempting to make her forget.

"Hey, Disney is _not_ a 'pointless nothing.' They own everything." Darcy squeezes his neck slightly with her arms. "Now stop trying to change the subject! What were you thinking about?"

Loki sighs, tightening his grip on her waist. "It does not matter."

"Try me," Darcy challenges.

Loki's fingers spread over the expanse of her waist, slowly moving across her back and drawing her close in a very affectionate (and, admittedly, possessive) embrace. He presses his lips to her forehead, relishing the warmth of the familiar sensation and desperately wishing to never have to let her go.

"Will you not leave me if I tell you?" he asks in a soft, oddly desperate voice.

Darcy grips his shoulders comfortingly. "I won't," she pledges. "Unless, of course, you took over another world or tried to make the Avengers your minions; I can't deal with that shit right now."

Loki draws in a deep breath, ignoring her rambles. "Then I will tell you."

"Good. Hit me with your best shot, babe."

Loki slowly wills himself to speak. "Darcy...you remember that I am Jötun, correct?"

"Yup."

"Then..." Loki breathes in again, almost shuddering in fear of what she will say when he finishes. "Then you know how I am...a monster," he says quietly.

Darcy pulls her head away from his chest to squint up at him. "Come again?"

"I am a monster, Darcy," Loki says, softening his grip slightly, as if expecting her to start running. "My Jötun form- my _true_ form- is hideous. It is deadly. It is..._grotesque_."

Darcy's squinting eyes seem to thin out even more. "Prove it," she says simply.

This makes Loki do a double take. "Pardon?" he says.

"I said prove it," Darcy repeats. "I know what the word grotesque means, and I don't like that you're calling yourself that. Show me your Jowtown form."

"Jötun," Loki corrects absentmindedly, as his mind is suddenly racing with worry, not of Darcy's pronunciation. How can she just insist upon seeing his Jötun form- his _monstrous_ form- on her own will, and so willingly?

"Yeah, whatever, just show me it," Darcy prompts again.

"It is not that simple," Loki argues, slightly exasperated. "I am repulsive in that form, and I am also as dangerous as I am repulsive. It is something you would despise to see."

"Then put your money where your mouth is and show me," snaps Darcy, looking- as only she would put it- "done with his shit." She moves out of his arms, sitting up again in their bed defiantly and crossing her arms expectantly.

Loki frowns darkly. "I cannot," he growls.

"You most certainly fucking can. Show me," Darcy repeats.

Loki's patience is tried, and so is Darcy's. They are not angry at each other, but tired of what this conversation brings: a conflict between the two of them. Loki knows he cannot show Darcy his Jötun form; he fears he will lose Darcy if he does. Darcy is annoyed he will not show her his Jötun form; she feels if they love each other, then they have to truly tell- and show- each other everything.

"Understand me, Darcy. I _cannot_," Loki repeats angrily.

"Well why the fuck not?"

"Because I will _frighten_ you," Loki says hotly, his anger making his words just as dangerous as he imagines his Jötun form to be. "I will make you tremble at the mere _sight_ of me. I am grotesque in that form. You will-"

"I will _what_?" Darcy says harshly. "Scream? Faint? I don't care! I'm not afraid of you!"

"Well you damn well should be!" Loki roars, angrily getting off of the bed and stalking across the floor in anger. "I...I could _kill_ you. I could kill you and not feel remorse. I could easily hurt you and-"

"And _what_?" Darcy challenges, defiant hurt flashing in her eyes.

"I COULD LOSE YOU!" Loki bellows, and he turns away from her, slamming his fist on the wall of their room. With the simple action, he transfers all the grief he's kept bottled up into his anger, even when the action leaves his skin hurting. Gasping to the wall, he doesn't turn to look at Darcy, even when unspilled tears prick the corners of his eyes.

He hears a shift of movement, and a second later, he feels her presence.

"Loki?" her voice sounds, and she rests a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Loki flinches from her touch, breaking his gaze away from the wall and backing away from his love. Darcy gazes at him, her facial features apologetic as she steps closer.

"Loki," she repeats. "You're...you're not going to lose me."

Loki exhales shakily, stepping back once more. "I would," he objects. "You have not seen what my true form is. You do not know what you are saying."

"You're talking to the girl who's dating you, even when you killed who knows how many people and tried to take over the world," Darcy quips, still managing to be her foolish self even when the moment is so tense. "I think I can manage if you looked different."

Loki sighs once more. "You do not understand," he repeats.

"Then make me understand." Darcy steps closer, and this time, Loki does not move away. "Show me your true form. You already know I love you; this isn't going to change anything."

"And if it does?" Loki asks slowly.

"Then I'd be a bitch, and I'm not," Darcy says. "Most of the time, anyway."

Loki breathes in and out slowly. "You...truly wish to see my Jötun form?"

"Dammit, Loki, _yes_. Are you gonna show me or not?" Darcy demands.

Loki closes his eyes just once, and finally, he nods. His magic, which helped keep his Jötun form in check, evaporates and he stands before Darcy, half-clothed and in his monstrous, grotesque state. When he opens his monstrous red eyes, his gaze falls on Darcy and he awaits her reaction.

Darcy, who is never hard to read, is the same right now. Her eyes widen, of course, at the sight, but a second later they soften considerably and she moves even closer to him. Loki watches her carefully, letting her do this, but when she raises a hand as if to touch him, he stops her.

"Do not touch me," he says quietly. "My skin...it will hurt you."

Her curious hand stops its descent towards his face, and she curls her fingers into her palms as the hand falls. Even when Loki has told her this, however, Darcy stays close to him, looking up at him curiously.

"You're..._blue_," she says in awe. "A-and you have fangs! And red eyes!"

Loki swallows thickly, fearing how weak he feels as of now, being bared as the monster he is to the woman he loves. Loki clenches his hands into fists when he hears her stammered words, and sees how her mouth has fallen open in shock. He is about to breathe out an apology when suddenly, the corners of Darcy's mouth turn up in a wide smile.

"_Dude_! You're cooler than a vampire!" Darcy exclaims, smiling widely.

Loki blinks, taken aback by her words. Is she suggesting she is not horrified?

"Why didn't you ever show me this before?!" Darcy cocks her head and studies his face curiously, looking almost gleeful in awe. "You look _badass_. What are those weird lines on your face for? And were you just born with fangs, or did they come out? And how come you didn't grow taller? Aren't you supposed to be some, like, frosty _giant_?"

Loki ignores her rambled questions. "You...you are not afraid?" he asks softly, unclenching his hands and flexing his fingers cautiously, wanting to touch Darcy and yet knowing he cannot.

Darcy rushes to the dresser, grabs her eyeglasses, and then rushes back. She pointedly puts them on and blinks at Loki in her fixed eyesight, the smile never leaving her face.

"Nope," she informs him. "And see? I'm not even blind when I say it." She pauses to drink in Loki's features once more. "And you look even cooler when I'm not blind! Why would you hide this? It's awesome!"

"It's _dangerous_," Loki corrects. "If I were to touch your skin, you could be fatally injured. Jötuns are naturally cold and harsh in their nature; I am as grotesque as I said myself to be."

Darcy shakes her head. "Don't be an idiot," she says simply. "Just because your Jowtown people are jerks doesn't mean that you're one too. You're a different man, Loki."

"Am I?" Loki asks just as simply. "I did horrible things, you know."

"Yes, I do know. And I hate you for it. Trying to take over the world, killing those innocent people...I'll never forgive you for any of that. But this? Being born someone you hate being? You didn't choose this. I can't hate you for this." Darcy takes a step closer until she's closer to him- too close to him.

"Darcy," Loki cautions.

"Loving someone means loving everything about them," Darcy continues. "Seeing you like this doesn't make me love you any less. If this was a movie I'd say something cheesy like 'it makes me love you even more.' You're not a monster. You're not repulsive. You're not grotesque."

Loki takes a step backward. "You are not seeing this in the right light, darling," he murmurs. "This...this part of me...it's not something I am proud of. In Asgard, it is a curse. Here, it is a danger. I am just what grotesque entails: distorted and repulsively hideous."

"Don't...say that." Darcy looks repulsed at the thought. "You're _not_ _grotesque_. You're not ugly, or distorted, or...anything like that. You're the person you were born as. You're..._beautiful_." Her curious hand goes up again, as if to touch his dangerous tinted skin, so Loki uses his magic to revert back to his Aesir form.

When her soft hand comes to contact his cheek, all walls Loki could have built to shield his anger at his true form come tumbling down, and he ends up reaching out for Darcy pathetically and drawing her into his arms, letting a single tear fall. Darcy welcomes this, squeezing him tightly in return.

"You are more so, Darcy," Loki quietly says into her hair, fingering the soft tendrils and wishing to never have to let her go, directing all his attention the woman in his arms. "You deserve so much more than I."

"Ditto," comes Darcy's muffled reply into his chest.

Loki, though surprised at her reply, just draws her into his arms tighter. He feels a rush of euphoria come to him in such a simple notion as to know that Darcy accepts his Jötun form and _loves_ him despite of it. It is a feeling he has never known. It is a feeling he never thought would be imaginable. In fact, he finds the notion of this feeling a ridiculous one. And yet, at the same time, he finds that he _revels_ in the feeling. For once, he is not a monster. For once, he is a simple man.

_Grotesque_.

The word comes hauntingly again, but not for any reason of damnation. Instead, it is but a ghost in his mind; while Loki may still see himself to be such a term, he finds that when he is with Darcy Lewis, who accepts him and loves him as she does, the word never runs through his mind again once.

* * *

**SO sorry for not replying to reviews until late. Please tell me I didn't forget anyone when I replied; remember that if I never PM you my thanks, then leave me a review saying that because I really want to thank each and every one of you.**

**scarletwitch0**

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**Thanks for the awesome reviews! 11 whole reviews in just one chapter?! That's crazy! You all are too awesome to even be reading my story...but I'm eternally grateful you're all sticking through his roller coaster of a fic. Send in words for the letter H if you want, review if you want to also, and just remember that you're all _amazing_!**


	8. H is for Hostage

**I GOT AN IDEA AND I JUST RAN WITH IT OKAY. No, seriously, but this word just gave me this massive hit of inspiration and this came out. It's, like, slightly crack fic territory kind of thing, so kind of unrealistic, but at the same time I'll probably reconstruct on this in a future chapter, provided you awesome readers send in some fitting words. ;)**

**Freaking awesome word credit to _DoubleDee068_!**

Hostage (noun): a person siezed or held as security for the fullfillment of a condition.

**Though, note that in this story, the hostage is not human- and yes, you read that right. And also, warning for Darcy's mouth, because I feel like she'd be the type to be an avid cusser.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, and I never will. Unfortunately.**

* * *

Darcy feels him staring again.

Yes, that's right, _again_.

Normally she would turn and send a sarcastic comment his way about it, and he would, of course, ignore said comment reply with a much more asshole-like one. But today Darcy decides not to; she knows that that would be useless, because the God of Mischief isn't the kind of guy to ever listen to her. Or to anyone.

It's Jane's fault for letting him stay. Loki has been working with S.H.I.E.L.D. (where Jane works and Darcy has followed Jane to, still working as her intern) since after his stunt with the Avengers, upon Thor's urging that he could be useful with missions and whatnot. He also started hanging around Jane's office around two months ago, and Jane let him. Seriously. Jane _lets_ him. And Jane hardly stays in her office, which leaves _Darcy_ alone with him most of the time.

Loki started staring at Darcy about one month ago. Every day he just comes in, sits down, and stares. Sometimes he'll read, but most of the time, he'll stare. And while Darcy would usually appreciate a good-looking guy like Loki checking her out, she feels that a psychopath checking her out _really_ shouldn't be considered a good thing.

Jane usually gets horrified when she hears that Darcy thinks Loki is good-looking, because she doesn't trust the guy. _Great logic, Jane. Get horrified at finding the guy cute, but by all means, let him sit in your office_. But then again, the guy _is_ cute. He's charismatic (drop dead gorgeous), he's stimulating (drop dead gorgeous), and he's ever-so-charming (and did Darcy mention drop dead gorgeous?). Truth be told, sometimes when he speaks, Darcy wants to...swoon. Yeah, that's a safe word.

But when he speaks, he always speaks to everyone _but_ Darcy. Even when he stares at her, and even when Darcy tries to tell him to knock it off, their conversation always dies out. It's like he's always keeping a distance from her, and at the same time, staring at her. To be honest, Darcy almost wishes the guy would talk to her more, because she is always bored.

It's boring working at S.H.I.E.L.D. with Jane (and not getting paid, for one), and she could use someone to spend lunch breaks with or talk to, since Jane mostly goes off with Thor now that he's stayed on Earth to babysit Loki. Realizing what she's thought of, Darcy chuckles and shakes her head; she's so desperate, she has actually imagined befriending _Loki_.

Yet if it made the day less boring...

Wait, _no_. Darcy is not going to even consider such an idea; the odds are, Loki would end up stabbing her in the back or something, figuratively and/or literally. Yup, she's better off letting the days be boring. And speaking of boring, there's a stack of papers in her hand that she's been "reading" for the past ten minutes that she's supposed to tell Jane about. She'd better get back to work...

But she can still feel him staring.

Why can't it even be cute, romantic staring? Like sneaking-a-glance-in-someone's-direction kind of thing? Why does it have to be Loki staring at her with his cold, frosty eyes like he's perpetually looking at someone he doesn't stand? (Because if Loki doesn't like Darcy, she's cool with that, but she'd at least like a heads-up about it, in case he tries to kill her anytime soon).

"You ever heard the term 'it's not polite to stare'?" Darcy finally asks.

He, at first, doesn't answer. This makes Darcy turn her chair and stare at the guy, who stays sitting stiffly in his seat, but who does lift his eyes up in a quiet, almost smug manner when he sees her.

"No." That's his answer. Unbelievable.

"Well, now that ya do, mind following it? You're distracting me."

He leans forward in his own chair now, his eyes flickering to her eyes and then over her body, and his voice is cold when he says, "I do not take orders from _mortals_."

Darcy looks at him curiously- because did he just check her out?- and says, "Yeah, you've made that pretty clear these past months you've been here, but seriously, dude, you realize you're kinda stuck with a whole bunch of mortals now, right?"

"That does not mean I choose to associate with them," says Loki in a clipped tone.

"Right, so that's why you've just been eye-raping my back for like a whole month and never even explaining why. I know I'm sexy and all, but my back is probably not the best place to look at when you're checking out a girl."

Loki frowns now. "You think very highly of yourself."

"That's a line, coming from you," jokes Darcy, but she finds herself internally smacking her face. Bad Darcy! Don't tease someone who could end your life in a millisecond!

Loki, surprisingly, doesn't take the bait. "Your joking does not amuse me," he states calmly. "I believe, for the purpose of what is to come next, I will ignore what you have just said."

Darcy has to run that through her head several times. "What?"

Loki suddenly stands up and strides across the room, taking Darcy's arm with an authoritative hand. His slim, long fingers forcefully grip her skin and jerk her arm upwards, taking her body upwards too (and bringing on a whole lot of pain to her arm, 'cause dude's got a grip).

He's hella strong, so when he shoves her back against the wall of Jane's office, it hurts like a motherfucker. What the hell is this guy doing? Trying to _kill_ her? (Wait, actually, that might not be too far off...)

"What have you done?" he snarls, bringing his face really close to hers and glaring at her with super intense green eyes. Damn it, why does he have to be so attractive? This so isn't fair.

"If you're asking for a confession, then yes, I did draw a mustache on Clint's face when he passed out yesterday. But in all fairness, it was a pretty rockin' mustache," Darcy offers (and the mustache totally was).

Loki's response is knocking Darcy's body against the wall, rattling her skull (and freaking her out). "No," he says through clenched teeth, "I wish to know what you have done to _me_."

"Yeah, no, I didn't draw anything on you, but if you _want_ me to-"

"Silence, mortal," Loki hisses.

Oh _hell_ to the no. "Excuse me?" Darcy says.

"I said _silence_," the idiot snaps. "You are beneath me, you insolent-"

Darcy raises a finger. "Wait, wait, are you going to call me a mewling quim now like you did to Natasha? Because I'm pretty sure she's already called dibs on killing you slowly and painfully for that one, so, maybe go for something more original?"

Loki frowns, which mars his pretty face, but whatever, he's still hot. Wait, and _evil_! Bad Darcy, don't get attracted to the stupid God of Mischief just because of his eyes. And his sexy smirk. And his face. And his hair. And-

"Tell me what you have done to me, mortal," Loki snaps instead, leaving out any possible name he could've called her (the Natasha thing _so_ saved her ass).

"I don't _know_ what I did to you. If I accidentally stole your coffee or something, I'm sorry. Unless it was crappy coffee, which in that case, I'm not," Darcy says, studying the face of the angry demigod, which is still shoved really close to hers.

He is still really attractive, of course, but there's something else to his face that's oddly desperate. His jaw tightens every few seconds, and not to mention, he looks kinda...confused. As if _Darcy's_ the confusing one. His eyes are also kinda flickering all over her face, trying to study her face right back, and that's...also kinda confusing, but kinda hot at the same time.

Damn it. Now Darcy has spent too much time being bored that she's also desperate for guys. When was the last time she got laid? Honestly, she can't even remember. When she dated Ian? Before that, even?

"You know very well that you have done something," Loki says slowly, and his grip on her arms tightens. "You have cast some sort of spell over me."

Great, now he's hot _and_ crazy. Stellar choice of guys you've got here, Darcy.

"Sorry, but I'm _mortal_," says Darcy sarcastically. "I've got no magic."

Loki's desperate face turns into one of anger. His jaw tightens the most it has so far and his eyes turn as cold as his voice has been the whole time.

"Clearly you have done _something_," he growls.

"Dude! I didn't! What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Darcy explodes, trying to move out of his grip, but he just digs his fingers into her skin harder and doesn't let go.

"Yes, you have," says Loki coldly. "Why else am I so entranced by you?"

Holy shit. This guy is..._attracted_ to her? And he honestly believes the only reason he could be attracted to her was if she cast some spell on him? Asshole. But seriously! Loki. Is. Attracted. To. _Her_. All the staring makes sense now (but is still really creepy, when she thinks about it).

"Well, see, there's a thing called boobs," Darcy offers.

Clearly that is the wrong answer, because Loki's face turns even colder. "You are crude, Midgardian," he spits, "and unworthy of my time."

"Right, and that's why you're pinning me to a wall," quips Darcy.

Loki's grip only gets tighter. Damn it, that's going to bruise.

"I know you have done something to bewitch me," he accuses. "You do not leave my mind, yet you are inexplicably ordinary. You manage to make me weak, and yet you are mortal. I have become infatuated with you, and this is all at the expense of your own fault."

"Hey, if it's my fault that I'm sexy as hell, then guilty as charged," jokes Darcy.

Loki frowns. "Do not attempt to be sarcastic, Midgardian."

"Actually, that was a joke..." Darcy trails off. "You know what, forget it."

Loki, clearly, doesn't appreciate humor, because he keeps pinning her to a wall. Darcy tries to wiggle out of his hold, but he's still scarily strong and just holds her tighter whenever she tries to move. His eyes keep scanning her face desperately.

"I do not understand," he finally murmurs brokenly.

"You and me both, buddy," mutters Darcy under her breath.

Loki ignores her that. "You are ordinary," he repeats, slowly softening his grip on her, yet still keeping her pinned. "I do not understand why you are so enticing."

"I just told you- sexy as hell."

Dude doesn't even pay attention to her anymore. Should she, like, yell for help? Jane's out on business with Thor (or so she says), so _Jane_ isn't obviously going to come. Other S.H.I.E.L.D agents might, and then maybe they'd stop letting Loki creep around Jane's office so much.

But Darcy Lewis doesn't usually call for help.

Or ever. She's got a taser and a will to save her own ass, thank you very much feminist ideals. But still, maybe when there's a crazy Norse God looking at her like she's a bug that needs to be squashed, she should make an exception.

"Do not dare, Ms. Lewis," says Loki suddenly, which makes Darcy focuses on him again. The asshole looks angry again, and his grip tightens _again_. Jaw tight, he adds, "If you dare to call for help, I will end you right now."

Wow, isn't _he_ a charmer. Going batshit crazy and hurting a girl, then staying batshit crazy and mumbling shit to said girl, all to end up threatening her life. Betcha he got all the ladies in Assgird or wherever he's from (insert eye roll here).

Wait- why'd he threaten her? She hadn't even said anything.

"Can you read my mind?" she blurts out.

Loki looks baffled; clearly that isn't the reaction he was expecting. "No," he says slowly, still glancing at her. "I can connect to your mind, but that is only to see and hear from your perspective. Furthermore, I did not do so now; I deducted that you wish to call for help from the look on your face."

Damn it, so that's why her dad always tried to teach her to have a good poker face. Well, that and because she was the only one who ever played poker with him and he got bored of always winning so easily.

"Okay Mr. Perspective, so what?" Darcy demands. "This is assault. I would've tasered your ass by now, but my taser's in my purse, so sometimes, I have to ask for help."

"You cannot." Loki grits his teeth. "You must end my agony."

"...What?"

"You are to be mine, Darcy Lewis," Loki says matter-of-factly (fucker, like Darcy is anyone's but her _own_). "I must have you. I _will_ have you," he adds dangerously.

Kinky psychotic assholes. Would wonders ever cease?

"...So you want to have sex with me," Darcy says slowly. "Dude-"

"Stop!" Loki yells, and he slams her against the wall again (_fuck_, that still hurts) to shut her up. "I am not an animal. My desire for you is not only primal." Not _only_? So he _does_ want to have sex with her?

"Then spit it out, dude!" Darcy cries. "What the hell do you want?"

Loki falters, and his face goes from angry to confused again. Geez, guys with daddy issues are always some pretty messed up people, but _aliens_ with daddy issues are a million times worse.

"I am not sure," he admits hollowly. "This- _sensation- _is new to me. I believe that I might wish to court you first and see how this will unfold."

So psychotic asshole with daddy issues wants to _go out_ with her? This is an unexpected turn of events, to say the least. Darcy would expect him to be the screw 'em and leave 'em type.

But the question of the hour is whether or not Darcy is _going_ to go out with the guy. First thought: hell no! Second thought: hell to the _fucking_ no! He's crazy. He's dangerous. _And_ he didn't even ask. You'd think, being a prince and all, that he'd at least _try_ to be romantic.

"You aren't exactly asking anything here, you know," Darcy informs him.

"What?"

"Yeah, you're just assuming I'm going to date you just because you decided you might have feelings for me! Well here's what _should_ be an answer to the question you never asked: no. I'm not going to go out with you," Darcy says.

Fuck, he becomes dangerous again. Or at least his face does, because he's _been_ dangerous, holding-her-hostage-and-making-her-hear-his-emotions-spill-everywhere and all.

"Do you dare refuse me, mortal?" he whispers lowly.

"Uh...yeah."

He narrows his eyes. "I will not have it," he says. "You _will_ be mine."

"Yeah, not a chance," Darcy says breezily.

But she doesn't even get the chance to be more sarcastic (because one can't have enough sarcasm), when Loki suddenly lets go of her, which makes her crumble on the ground. Stupid gravity. She tries to stand up but ends up finding that her legs are all shaky (again, stupid gravity). Before she has even straightened herself out, Loki grips both of her arms with his hands and keeps her rooted to the spot.

"You will be mine," he repeats while Darcy struggles against his grip (what are with his fingers, dammit! They're like iron or something). "You should be honored that I am not taking you against your will, mortal. I offer you a chance to redeem yourself and accept my offer to court you."

_Offer_. Yeah, what an offer.

"In your dreams, asshole," Darcy snaps, still trying to make his fingers let go of her wrists. Her head hurts, her arms are probably bruised, and the last thing she needs is her wrists to be bruised too.

Loki just digs his fingers into her skin harder. "Say that once more, mortal," he challenges, "and I will-" Darcy quickly knees him in the groin, and his words fall silent. For a second pain flashes on his face, but he doesn't let her go; he just shoves her _back_ against the wall. Great, add back bruises and a possible concussion to her list of injuries.

"Let me go!" Darcy exclaims, angrily.

"No," Loki says coolly. "You are going to be mine, Darcy Lewis. I am going to ensure so." He moves his face dangerously close to hers. "You _will_ let me court you-"

Darcy spits. On his face.

Loki doesn't let go of her. Not even to wipe his face. "You will let me court you," he repeats, looking very less patient, "or I will kill you."

Death threats. Again.

"Well, that way I wouldn't end up having to date you," quips Darcy unabashedly. "So go ahead. Do it." She then raises her chin defiantly (isn't that what strong heroines do or something?).

Loki's face morphs into one of...amusement? He even smirks. "I will," he says coolly, "but only if you do not agree to become involved in a relationship with me. Then I will not only kill you, but your precious _Jane_-"

"Thor would kick your ass for that," Darcy interjects.

"-and I will take the electronic device you worship so much," finishes Loki.

_That_ makes Darcy's heart stop. Literally.

"Hey, spare my iPod!" she shrieks, horrified. "It's literally innocent!"

"It is your choice," Loki says, still smirking.

_Bastard_, literally blackmailing her to _go out_ with him. Where did he even get such a stupid idea, Evil Villians 101? Darcy can imagine the logo: "taking guys with tragic backstories and making them hateful since humanity started."

Darcy frowns. "You don't even _have_ my iPod," she challenges.

"But I can easily obtain it," counters Loki.

Darcy bites her lips. Every ounce of her good judgement screams _No, fucking run you dumb bitch_, but then again, her iPod screams _Queen_ and _Pierce the Veil_ and really, how can she resist the screams of her loved ones in peril?

So, in the end, that's the story of how Darcy Lewis, badass who tased the God of Thunder, ends up dating Loki Odison, freaking psychotic God of Mischief, who used her iPod as a hostage to blackmail her into dating him.

* * *

**So that was, finally, the blackmail chapter! Hope you guys loved Darcy's voice throughout this, and the banter Tasertricks had- it was fun to write.**

**But forget me. Love these people instead:**

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**Thank you, amazing people listed above! You do not know how happy it makes me to read you guys' reviews and talk to each and every one of you; you're all so awesome. Plus, getting this story to 75 reviews?! You guys rock!**


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